Family Portrait
by K.C.Dragonfly
Summary: In our family portrait we look pretty happy; let's play pretend, act like it comes naturally... No ships. Enjoy!
1. The day it all began

**Hi y'all, hows things? New story for you! This one is not a relationship fic, but should be a bit different. Let me know what you think, I love reviews**

**Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or the characters, and I promise to give them back when I'm finished**

* * *

No one was coming.

"Mom!" I yell with as much force as I can muster, but it is to no avail. I grab the kitchen counter, sliding onto the floor. The wooden cupboard is refreshingly cold against my hot skin, but even that doesn't serve to calm me down. "Mom!" I try again, my voice cracking with terrified tears.

How can this be happening? This isn't supposed to happen. Another shot of pain explodes in my stomach, causing a pained whimper to escape my trembling lips. I feel like I am suffocating as it gets increasingly harder to suck air into my burning lungs.

This must be what dying feels like. Painful ... humiliating ... frightening. Alone.

"Mom!" I cry pitifully, but it is no use. There's no one here to listen to my pleas.

I know what's happening, but I can't admit it. If I do then its real and I have to face this. And I can't do that, not yet; it isn't time yet.

I almost wish I _am_ dying; then I won't have to deal with the repercussions of my big mistake. I wish the ground would just open up beneath me and swallow me whole.

I can feel tears streaking my face, leaving a sticky trail down my flushed cheeks. I must look an absolute wreck right now, but I don't care anymore.

I feel something hot against my leg and reach beneath the hem of my skirt to touch it. Blood.

It's too late to stop it. It really is happening now.

In the back of my mind I know what I need to do, but I'm not sure how. I've only ever seen it done on TV and in books; and even then, it wasn't exactly explicit enough to provide step-by-step instructions.

Squeezing my eyes tight closed, I reach between my legs with shaky hands and will myself not to scream.

I don't know how long it lasts – it feels like hours. I am in agony, I don't think I can take anymore...

And then it stops.

And the baby cries.


	2. Matryoshka

**Forgot to mention, the title and summary are from P!nk, 'Family Portrait'. **

***Spoiler alert - This chapter has a lot of dialogue from 'Nesting Dolls' **

* * *

"You know ... every time we get a case with a hint of domestic violence or abuse, you go off the deep end. What is your problem?" Catherine fixed her young colleague with a stern look, but Sara was too far gone to even notice. She took a step forward, her eyes darker than Cath had ever seen them before.

"Yeah, I probably do; and you let your sexuality cloud your judgement about men, and I'm gonna go over your head!" The young brunette barked back, easily dodging the question.

Before Catherine could even react to the vicious slight against her, they were both startled out of the argument by a sharp holler. Sara snapped her gaze to Ecklie, her eyes still ablaze with seething anger.

"Get in my office, now!" He instructed, not even sticking around long enough to check that she was going to oblige before he disappeared again.

Catherine's shoulders slumped as she watched Sara stalk down the hallway behind their irate boss; mildly relieved that the girl was finally going to be taken to task for her obstinate behaviour. After all, it wasn't like she hadn't had enough second chances over the years.

No, Sara deserved this.

* * *

"Catherine!"

The blonde slowed down, allowing Greg to catch her up.

"I heard Ecklie suspended Sara. What can we do?" The earnest plea in his voice was touching, but she was still too pissed off to warm to it.

"Nothing." She answered coolly instead, purposefully avoiding his gaze as she continued trekking through the maze-like lab.

"No?" He pressed, jogging slightly to keep up with her as she quickened her pace.

"Mm-mm." She nodded, casting a brief glance at his face and glimpsing his puppy-dog stare, before fixing her eyes forward again. But the loyal fellow wasn't giving up yet.

"Sara's always been there for anyone who needs her. She's always had my back. So what if she flew off the handle a little?" He was practically chasing the speed-walking woman by now as he tried one final time to get a response. Catherine sighed, coming to an abrupt stop and gripping the young man's arm.

"Greg, she crossed the line with a suspect, she was inappropriate with me and with Ecklie. She needs the time off."

Having said her piece, and not willing to dwell on the matter for a second longer, she continued on her way; feeling the ex-lab rat's stunned gaze burning into her back as she strode as quickly as possible out of sight.

* * *

"You wanted to talk to me about Sara?" Grissom interrupted Catherine mid-sentence and both she and Ecklie glanced up simultaneously from their paperwork.

"I haven't received her disciplinary action. What's the hold-up?" Conrad asked testily, sliding his hand off the back of Catherine's chair and onto the table, where he clasped them together. Grissom watched the move carefully, one eyebrow quirked as he answered without hesitation.

"Well, I'm not firing her."

Catherine heard the unmistakable sigh of frustration from the man beside her, but chose to ignore it.

"What action _are_ you taking?" She asked in a soft voice, fiddling nervously with the pen in her hands. Grissom's cool gaze drifted over to her, but remained blank and emotionless.

"I've taken it."

With that unhelpful answer hanging between them, the old friends continued to stare at each other in a bitterly silent match.

"I thought I was clear." Ecklie stated, annoyed.

"You were. Now let _me_ be clear." Grissom said, his calm demeanour not faltering once. "Sara's behaviour is a direct result of my management."

"So I should fire you." The boss retorted with a sly grin.

"But you won't."

If Gil was remotely concerned that his job could actually be in danger, he showed no ounce of it in his steely expression. Catherine studied his face carefully; an earlier thought that she had so flippantly discarded creeping back into her mind now.

Her attention so otherwise engaged by this unsettling notion making itself at home in her head; she felt, rather than saw, Ecklie stand up and lay his hands flat on the table.

"Look, Gil ... I've been there. We're human. We get attached to people; we try to fix their problems. It doesn't work." His attempt to sound sympathetic fell flat and Gil's eye-roll said as much.

"She's a great criminalist, Conrad; and I need her." Grissom stated, his strong voice wavering for the first time.

"I'm sure you do." Conrad smirked knowingly, holding his hands up and effectively releasing the wayward brunette into Grissom's care. "You know what? She's a loose cannon with a gun. And she's all yours."

He brushed past Gil on his way out, purposefully knocking into his shoulder as he left the smouldering CSI in his wake.

Gil's blue eyes had flicked to Catherine's and held steady for an achingly long minute. She would bet any money that he thought he knew what was going through her head at that moment, but he'd be wrong.

* * *

A full day had gone by since her well-publicised fight with Sara, and she was still feeling the effects of it with every snide comment and veiled insult she received. But that wasn't the only reason she couldn't get the argument out of her head.

There was a nagging feeling of discomfort tugging persistently at the back of her mind. It had started during the fight, but had been too deeply clouded in a mist of burning fury for her to notice it at the time. Since she had slept on it, the thought had surfaced again; and this time no amount of anger in the world would make her blind to it.

Grissom knew something, and it was something that she had missed somewhere along the way. Sara's behaviour was more than a reaction to Grissom's emotionally detached method of supervising; this was something else entirely and she was going to find out exactly what.

Making her way to his office, she ignored the dirty look Greg shot her in the hall and slipped through the ajar door. She knew that she was breaking all the rules here. She wasn't Sara's supervisor – or even her assistant supervisor, anymore – and she had no right to be snooping through her file. But she needed answers, and this was the only way to get them.  
Lord knows, she wouldn't get a straight response from the girl herself and there was no point in even asking Grissom for any favours right now given the currently frosty climate of their friendship.

As she rummaged through his filing cabinet, Cath tried to tell herself that she was doing this out of concern for her young colleague; but truth be told, she had a guilty conscience. As the senior CSI, she should never have gone off at Sara in the corridor like that when she had a perfectly good office available.

And credit where credit's due, Sara had been right about Melton.

Which was part of the reason she was looking for this information; Sara _had_ been right, but her assumptions were not based on evidence. She had recognised that look in Sara's eyes – the look that said 'I've been there'.

And if Sara had been there, then there must be some clues in her file. Once she knew for certain what was going on, then she could help the troubled brunette. Call it emotional restitution, if you like.

Locating Sara's personnel information proved remarkably easy, despite Gil's arbitrary attitude to filing.

However, she never found the information she was looking for. In fact, she barely got two lines down before her gaze caught on something that made her blood freeze.

_Full Name: Sara Aspen Sidle_

_D.O.B: September 16 1973_

It couldn't be...


	3. Little Miss Houndini

_February 14th 1973_

"You're 14, Catherine!" Lily snapped, brushing past her incensed daughter into the kitchen. "You cannot go to a senior's high school party!"

"I won't be drinking." Catherine bargained, stalking her mother through the small trailer-shaped house.

"I don't care. You're still not going to a party with seniors." Lily tried to ignore the hateful stares she was receiving as she commenced rummaging in the bottomless depths of her handbag for an elusive set of car keys.

"But mom..."

"But nothing." She waved a dismissive hand. "I said you're not going and that's final."

Catherine draped herself across the kitchen counter, her bottom lip dropping petulantly as she rolled her eyes towards the ceiling.

"And don't give me that look." Lily added knowingly, her back still facing the girl. "Besides, I need you to look after your sister tonight. Martin's gone out and he won't be back until late."

Catherine emitted a frustrated groan, throwing her gaze skywards once again.

"Nancy can look after herself." She whined.

"She's nine years old; she _cannot_ look after herself." Lily countered sternly, finally extracting her keys from the reams of junk in her bag and dropping them onto the kitchen table with a soft clatter.

"She's asleep, it's not like she's going anywhere." Cath insisted, trailing her mom back into the lounge. The woman turned to her, exasperated, and gripped her firmly by the shoulders; manicured nails digging into her slender scapula.

"Catherine, I do not have time for this." She sighed. "We will talk later. But there are no two ways about it; you are not going to that party." She released the teen, snatching a short-hemmed leather jacket from the back of the chair and slipping it on over her thin t-shirt. It was going to be freezing tonight, but she didn't have time to change now, so it would have to suffice until she got to work.

"Everyone else is going," Cath pointed out sullenly.

"Well, you're not everyone else." The dancer snapped, growing increasingly weary with her eldest child's constant whinging. "And you're not going to win this fight. We're done, end of."

"Mom..."

"No!" There was no room for argument in the woman's voice this time and Catherine's face quickly turned from one of stubborn pleading to surly, bordering on a hissy fit.

"I hate you." The teenager snarled vindictively, stomping her foot on the floor.

"What did you say?" Lily asked, whirling towards her with a startled look.

"I hate you!" Catherine repeated loudly, tears welling up in her baby blue eyes. "You're ruining my life!"

For a moment, Lily just blinked at her in shock. Despite all of their fights – of which there had been too many to recall – Catherine had never once uttered those fateful words.

The young girl turned away, flicking her long red hair dramatically over her shoulders as she set off towards her room.

"Don't you walk away from me, young lady." Lily hissed. "You're on thin ice as it is!" Catherine stopped half way down the narrow hallway and spun on her heel, staring her mother down with a cocked eyebrow.

"You are such a hypocrite." She laughed acidly. "You spend every night on a stage, half-dressed, for a bunch of creeps; but I can't even go to a school dance! I wish I'd never been born!"

Lily winced as the bedroom door slammed, waves of fury echoing throughout the tiny house. She considered following her unruly daughter and attempting to calm her down, but she knew from bitter experience that it would be many hours before she would get another word out of her.

Catherine was no longer the sweet little girl she had raised. Unfortunately, every time she tried to find out where that innocent child had gone, it descended into yet another fight like this one.

In any case, she was late for work.

She checked on Nancy, grabbed her bag and keys from the kitchen table and slipped out into the cool night, locking the door behind her and casting a final downtrodden glance at the unsettlingly quiet house.

* * *

Catherine flung herself onto her bed, grabbing the closest thing to her - a rather unfortunate teddy bear – and hurling it at the wall.

She lay there for a moment, sulking in the dim shadows cast by the streetlight outside. In the back of her subconscious she heard the front door lock and a devious thought settled in her mind.

She sat up, her ears pricked as she listened carefully for the tell-tale noises. The car door opened, closed, the engine turned over. The car spluttered and coughed and rolled down the drive, the sound of the battered old Chevy fading gradually as it disappeared into the fog-laden street.

Once all was silent again, Cath launched herself across the room, snatched the dress off the back of her chair and bounded into the bathroom.

Within twenty minutes she was dressed to the nines and her make-up was done to perfection, even if she did say so herself.  
She crept down the hall, pausing to poke her head into her little sister's room. Nancy was sleeping soundly, a soft snore escaping her pouting red lips. Catherine smiled, sliding the door gently closed again.

In the darkness, she grinned to herself.

"Party time."

Back in her bedroom, she hoisted the window open and clambered onto the sill. The house wasn't far off the ground, but far enough that she had to take a second before committing herself to it. Sucking in a lungful of the cool air, she jumped; dropping gracefully onto the damp grass beneath.

With one final glance at her sister's blacked-out room and her own curtains flapping in the evening wind, she vanished over the fence.

Off into the night to play.

* * *

Such is the unfortunate nature of her life that her mother came home from work early that night.

She had been sneaking back in through the kitchen door, taking every care not to so much as breathe too loudly lest she disturb someone. So, it was not surprising that she got the shock of her life when the light clicked on and she found herself face to face with her sour-faced mother.

"Hi." She mumbled nervously, caught in the act so to speak.

"I thought I made myself clear, Catherine." Lily stated tiredly, lifting her gaze from the mug of stone-cold coffee gripped between her hands to fix her daughter with a steely gaze.

"You did, but I..." Catherine started to defend her actions, but it was too late for that.

"Go to bed." Lily cut her off, glancing away. Something in her mom's voice stopped her from arguing this time. She didn't sound angry or annoyed, just disappointed.

It was almost like she knew.

Catherine nodded mutely, making her way through the narrow house to her bedroom. She closed the door, not caring whether she made a noise this time, and sank on the bed in the darkness.

Her body was exhausted and bruised, but her mind felt strangely alive.

She undressed slowly, slipping out of the silky fabric and letting it fall down to pool around her ankles. She could still feel the events of that night on her skin, permanently tattooed on her memory.

She had thought about it so many times, talked about it endlessly with her friends; but she had never envisioned it happening the way it did. She hadn't quite decided how she felt about it yet.

And she wasn't sure whether it was the waning effects of the alcohol or the after-glow of what she had just done, but something felt different inside her now.

Something had changed.


	4. Something burning in the DNA lab

**Hey guys, hope you're enjoying so far. I know it's a bit confusing at the moment, but I promise it will start to make more sense soon. Let me know what you think so far.**

* * *

Catherine paced fretfully around the cramped space, wafting the file absently in the air and muttering incomprehensively to herself.

She was so caught up in her own blind panic that she never even noticed Grissom appear in the threshold, raising an eyebrow at his restless colleague.

"Something wrong?" He inquired calmly, his suspicion growing exponentially as she jumped out of her skin at the intrusion to her disjointed internal ramblings.

"No." She hiccupped guiltily, dropping her hands behind her back in a vain attempt to hide the file. Naturally, his sharp eyes caught the stealth movement and he took a casual step closer.

"What's that?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, inching guiltily away from him until her back collided with the desk. Grissom frowned sceptically, reaching around her slim waist and snatching the folder from her still-trembling hands.

Catherine chewed on her lip nervously, waiting for the blow-up that never came. Instead, Grissom glanced over the top of the file, one eyebrow cocked in silent question.

"It's not what it looks like." She offered meekly.

"You were snooping?" He asked, though it was more a statement of fact than a query.

"No, I was..." She started to defend herself, but trailed off. What was she doing, exactly? Her mind was so frazzled; she couldn't even remember why she had come in here in the first place.

"This is Sara's personnel file." He pointed out, as if she wasn't already well aware of that.

"I know." She nodded, trying to pluck a valid excuse from thin air. When she failed to produce one, Gil sighed in frustration.

"Catherine, whatever problems you have with Sara, this is unacceptable." He snapped, dropping it onto his desk angrily, where it landed atop an unstable stack of papers. Cath winced at the harsh noise it made, feeling a lump starting to form in her throat.

"Gil," She tried again, but he was having none of it this time.

"That file is confidential. What were you planning on doing with it?"

"Nothing!" She insisted, edging her way around him and towards the door. "I just needed to check something, but it doesn't matter now. I'm sorry."

"Catherine." He warned in a low voice, but she quickly cut him off.

"I know, I screwed up. It won't happen again." She babbled tearfully, already halfway out of the door as she burbled a final apology in his direction.

"Catherine!" He hollered after her, but she was already gone.

He stared down at the folder on his desk in bewilderment. Turning to the first page, he scanned the details, hoping to deduce what she could possibly have been looking for.

Whatever dirt she had been hoping to find on Sara, he couldn't imagine it would be in here. And even if it was, what damage could she do with that information?

After all, Ecklie already had access to it.

* * *

Not one to be deterred easily, Catherine relocated herself in a quiet corner of the lab. One where even Grissom wouldn't find her. She signed into the computer and selected the tab labelled Staff Files. There was less information on here, but it had the basics: name, level, date of birth...

She found Sara's information and brought it up, her eyes lingering hypnotically over those numbers.

9/16/1973

Sara was thirty-one years old. 31 years, four months, two weeks and five days to be precise.

Cath took a deep, shuddering breath, laying her head in her hands. This could not be happening, she told herself. It just couldn't be. There had to be another explanation.

"Hey," a soft voice startled her upright again.

She lifted her gaze to find Sara leaning casually against the doorframe, a case file tucked in her folded arms. Despite the obvious exhaustion and stress carved into her features, she appeared much more composed than she had been the last time they were in a room together.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The supervisor attempted a smile, but it was less-than-convincing. "I thought you were..."

"Yeah, I am. I just came to drop something off." Sara explained, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment. She looked nervous, although Catherine was far too wound up to really notice. "And I wanted to apologise, I was..."

"Don't." Cath cut her off gently. "It's okay."

Sara studied her, clearly not convinced by this sudden turnaround of opinion from her co-worker. Only a matter of hours ago, this same woman had been tearing shreds off her in the hallway.

"Okay." She echoed at last. Catherine nodded with relief at this tentative acceptance, though there was still uncertainty mirrored in both their expressions.

Sara remained in the threshold a minute longer, debating whether or not to push the issue. Eventually, she decided against it and mumbled a half-hearted thanks, before turning to leave.

"Wait," Catherine called her back, her voice unusually high. "Um, how ... how are you?" She stuttered, instantly kicking herself for the stupidity of the question.

Sara frowned, nodding suspiciously.

"Apart from being suspended, I'm okay." She replied honestly. "Are you sure _you're_ alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." Cath breathed. "Thanks."

Her chest was heaving, her cheeks flushed. She dropped her head, letting her golden waves fall in front of her face and disguise the blatant agitation she was emitting right now. She could feel dark eyes watching her, studying every nervous twitch and hitched breath with fierce scrutiny.

But when she finally had to guts to look back up, Sara was nowhere to be seen.

Catherine exhaled, letting her whole body sink against the back of the creaky swivel chair.

God, those eyes...

How on earth had she missed that?

* * *

She had to know the truth. One way or another, she simply had to find out exactly who Sara Sidle really was. And, being a scientist and all, she knew just what she needed in order to do that.

She couldn't deny that it felt more than a bit wrong breaking into Sara's locker, but it was a necessary part of her plan.

She glanced around, checking for the fifth time that she was definitely alone, before swinging the metal door open and staring into the narrow space. At the front, like most CSIs, Sara had a bag of spare clothing. Cath dragged this out, discarding it on the bench. Lurking behind it, nestled between a long-forgotten text book and a neatly pressed suit jacket, was what she had come here for. After a moment of guilt-induced hesitation, she snatched up the cosmetic bag.

It was no lie that Sara was not exactly a girly-girl, but every now and then she had cause to wear make-up to work – when she was in court, or going on a date straight after shift.  
This was the primary reason she kept lipstick in her locker. Catherine slid the cotton swab out of her pocket, checked once more that no one was around, and swabbed the tip, before hurriedly replacing it and the rest of Sara's belongings back where they lived.

As she went to close the locker door, something made her pause. Tucked inside the door itself, Sara had slotted a handful of photos. Catherine had noticed them before, of course, but she had never really taken the time to look at them.

The top one was taken in the mountains somewhere, and a younger Sara was decked out in ski gear and beaming at the photographer. A taller guy with blonde boy-band hair and a lazy grin had one arm slung around her shoulders while he pointed to the giant snowman beside them. Cath knew she had attended college in New York, so she guessed the image was taken somewhere north of the border. It struck her that, in five years of working with the brunette, she had never seen that smile – relaxed, carefree, impish even. She would stake her wages that the young Sidle had gotten up to more mischief at college than simply building oversized snowmen.

Beneath that photo was a white boxer dog lounging on a worn patch of grass, its large tongue hanging out contentedly as it basked in the California warmth.

But the one that had first caught her eye was the little girl sat on a beach, her bare legs stretched across the sun-drenched sand. Long dark waves were almost touching her waist, as she tipped her head towards the sky and closed her eyes, a sweet little smile on her porcelain face. Catherine could almost imagine herself looking at that scene through a camera lens, as if she had taken the aged photo herself.

Sara had been a beautiful child. Given the chance, Cath would have taken as many photos of her as time afforded them.

Nudging the door closed with a sad sniff, she stared at the sample in her hand; her conscience chuntering remorsefully in her head. Deep down she knew this was the only way to be one hundred percent sure, but it didn't make her feel any better about it.

Her own swab was already labelled, so now there was just one thing left to do.

Mia was submerged in the microscope, oblivious to the figure hovering anxiously in her doorway. Cath was about to clear her throat or cough, anything to get the lab rat's attention, when something stopped her. A familiar voice reminding her why what she was about to do was very wrong.

"_Are you covering for me?"_

"_I believe that we've dealt with this issue, handled it internally. As far as I'm concerned, it's dead. Besides, you'll never do it again"_

Her hand tightened around the little tubes. Last time it had cost her a murder case. This time, it would be her job.

With a resigned huff, she turned and stalked back out; just as Mia glanced up from her work. She caught sight of the red-head and opened her mouth to greet her, but had to settle for scowling in bemusement at the back of Catherine's head as she disappeared without a single word.

* * *

Catherine ran a hand through her wavy hair for the millionth time that day, staring morosely at the two tubes sitting side by side on her desk. The answer to her burning question was just down the hall, but if she did that again she'd get sacked for certain.

She groaned, falling back into her seat. There must be another way.

She shook the computer mouse to wake up the screen, an unnaturally bright glow suddenly illuminating her dark office, and tapped a few key words into Google.

And there it was, in black and white; the answer to her predicament. It would take a lot longer for the results to come through, but it was legal, and she wouldn't risk losing all she had worked so hard for.

All she needed now to make it happen was one final sample.

And for that, she might just need somebody's help ... if he was willing to offer it.

* * *

"I need you."

Greg lifted his head, turning slowly to the door. Upon sighting his visitor, he immediately thought of Sara, sitting alone in her tiny flat drowning her sorrows in beer after toxic beer. He wanted to say no, that she hadn't been willing to help a colleague yesterday, so why the hell should he bother today?

However, one look at her pale, sombre face silenced the acidic comment on the tip of his tongue. Letting the tension in his shoulders seep away, he merely nodded his assent.

"How can I help?"

* * *

A quick search of the DNA database brought up the data she needed. It had been a shot in the dark, but even a shot in the dark had to hit sometimes.

Evidently, the mystery she had once known as Jack Halliwell grew into a man with more than a few strikes against his name. Judging by his impressive rap sheet, he had spent more time falling off the wagon than climbing onto it; and drink wasn't his only poison of choice.

She could tell that Greg was concerned about their actions, but she truly couldn't do this without him and she didn't trust Mia to keep her mouth shut. Hodges would wheedle it out of her, one way or another and she simply couldn't let that happen.

If it got out what she was doing – and why – then she would have some very uncomfortable questions to answer, not in the least from Sara herself.

In any event, Greg agreed to keep quiet about their search and gave her the printout without a peep of curiosity. She stared at the confusing table of numbers in her hand, the biological map of Jack Halliwell.

The three samples she needed now securely in her possession, she sealed them into a stiff envelope, scrawled her signature on a cheque and mailed the important little package at the first opportunity.

All she could do now was wait and pray, though what outcome she was hoping for remained a mystery even to herself at his moment.


	5. Playing doctors

_March 4th, 1973_

Practically climbing into her locker in a wishful attempt to become invisible, she closed her eyes and prayed that they would keep on walking. To her continued anguish, it didn't work and a sharp holler startled her into dropping the books she was clutching at her chest.

"Hey klutz, you missed English this morning." Karen commented, a question lurking behind her blasé statement.

"Yeah, I overslept." Catherine lied, crouching down to scoop up her belongings. On the contrary, she had been up and out of the house earlier than usual this morning; though she wasn't about to admit that to the Gossip Queen of Western Las Vegas High School.

"Truant." Another voice jibed harshly and Cath winced at the unmistakable sound of Deborah Smith. She really could do without her shit today, especially after the borderline-traumatic procedure she had undergone this morning – the real reason she had been late for school.

"So, what did you get up to last night that made you so tired?" The girl inquired around a mouthful of sickly-sweet scented Razzles gum.

It was a joke, but Catherine knew that she was obliged to answer all the same. She opened her mouth to offer some coy response in the hopes that they would draw their own conclusions, but her stomach had other ideas. The cramps came from nowhere; her gut lurching and churning, un-appreciative of the cereal bar she had just wolfed down as a substitute for breakfast.

Textbooks tumbling from her arms for a second time, she let her bag slide off her shoulder and bulleted to the nearest girls' bathroom; stumbling blindly into a cubicle where she emptied the meagre contents of her stomach.

She was vaguely aware of her friends following behind, giggling with gleeful amusement as her discarded bag was tossed unhelpfully at her back.

"God, one senior's party and all of a sudden you're a hardened drinker." One of them mocked, though from her spot on the cold floor she couldn't discern which one. Not that she really gave a damn.

"Not really, proper alcoholics don't get hangovers." Another joined in, and they all chortled brightly. Catherine used the stall walls to pull herself up onto shaky legs, wiping at her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

"Yeah, I guess I need more practice." She tried to brush the event off as a matter of hilarity while staggering between them to the sink. Her friends continued their oblivious taunts behind her back, ignorant of the distressing thoughts rushing through her mind as she stared at her tired, make-up free face in the graffiti-stained mirror.

She could correct them, of course. Inform them that she hadn't been drinking last night. Not at all, in fact, since that fateful party a couple of weeks ago.

She could ... or she could let them continue to believe their own assumptions and keep her secret fears to herself.  
That this was not the after effects of a night of binging; that she had thrown up every morning this week. That she was six days late.

"Hey Cathy!" Deborah called, snapping her back from her concerned musings.

"What?" She snapped, ignoring the illicit use of her much hated nickname and plastering a blank look on her face to hide the turret of emotions raging behind her blue eyes.

"The mall, after school?" The taller girl asked, flicking poker-straight blonde locks over her shoulder impatiently at having to repeat herself.

"We're going to look for prom dresses." Donna added, rocking excitedly on her heels.

"Prom's not for months." Catherine pointed out.

Attempts to improve her drained appearance failing miserably, she emitted a frustrated growl and snatched her bag off the floor. Her friends watched her strut back into the crowded hallway, bemused by her sudden erratic behaviour.

"Yeah, but we have to start looking now, otherwise all the good ones will go." Karen insisted, catching up to her. The others nodded eagerly in agreement. Cath ignored them, returning to her locker and restacking the books she had abandoned prior to her breakfast's revolt.

"So?" Debs pressed firmly. "Are you coming or not?"

"I'm busy." Catherine mumbled, avoiding their collective gaze. She shoved her bag into the cramped locker alongside the PE kit she hadn't worn in two months and the half-empty bottle of cheap vodka that had been sitting there since Christmas. Suddenly, the prospect of knock-off booze had lost all appeal to her.

"Doing what?" She felt how they all seemed to lean closer, like lions waiting to pounce on their prey; dying to know what was so important that she would blow off shopping with her best friends. It struck her that they made their lives around gossiping about other people's secrets, but they would protect their own to the death.

"I've got something to do." She answered enigmatically, slamming her locker door shut and stalking down the corridor with a petulant swagger. She could still feel their eyes on her back; curious, lingering. She knew that she would be the subject of notes passed at the back of history class; just as well as she knew that she was not going to be welcome at their table this lunch time.

Not that it mattered, she wouldn't be eating anyway.

* * *

She hadn't been lying; she did have something important to do. And it was not going to the library, as her mother had so gullibly believed.

She had been standing outside the imposing grey-stone building for nearly forty minutes now, trying to build up the courage to go inside. Her knees were trembling, her hands turning white as she balled them into fists at her side.

Any attempts to calm herself down, to tell herself that it could be good news, disintegrated when she felt that all-too familiar twinge in her stomach.

Deciding to just bite the bullet, she took a deep breath and pushed the heavy door open. Before she even stepped inside, she was hit by that smell. Illness, it always screamed at her. Illness and needles.

She edged up to the front desk, shuffling her feet nervously on the tiles as she waited for the receptionist to get off the phone. The longer she was kept waiting, the more she considered bottling it; until finally the young woman hung up and turned to Catherine, fixing her with a fake smile.

"How can I help?" She asked pleasantly, in a voice that Cath guessed was supposed to put her at ease or reassure her that this was a safe place. Either way, it didn't work.

"I'm here to pick up my results, from this morning." She mumbled softly, looking away.

"Okay, wait down the hall to be called." The brunette answered, and judging from the dirty look Cath received as she moved away from the desk, the woman knew exactly what 'results' she was here for. Her mind jumped back to the embarrassment she had felt this morning; how her cheeks had flamed when the doctor handed her a small clear pot and pointed her in the direction of the bathroom.

There were already a few people waiting when she took her seat. Normally she would try to guess what ailment each person was suffering from, but today she was far too distracted for games like that.

It was a further twenty tense minutes of awkward silence and intermittent coughing before the doctor, an attractive young man in his thirties, poked his head out and called her into the office. She could feel the eyes of every other patient watching her as she trekked down the long, sterile corridor in her short skirt and bulky knitted sweater.

Inside his office she perched carefully on the edge of the seat, her hands fidgeting anxiously in her lap. He opened the file on his desk and glanced through it, though she was sure he had already read it before she came in.

"Well, Miss Flynn." He started, and her stomach somersaulted at what was to come. "I've got the results back from your test this morning."

She swallowed hard, willing herself not to cry. After a long pause, he sighed, placing the file back on the table and lacing his fingers together on it. Staring at his strong male hands reminded her of that night and her whole body tingled with the memory it stirred up. His eyes flicked up to hers and for a moment she could have sworn she was staring into Jack's dark orbs.

"Miss Flynn," he started again. She didn't even hear what he said after that. She didn't need to.


	6. Rebel with a cause

Catherine felt like she was losing her mind. Sara had been off work for four days and it was killing her already. Lord knows how she was supposed to last another week of this mental torture.

She could tell that the guys were getting suspicious about her edgy behaviour, but none of them had dared to call her on it yet. Why would they? After all, the last person who picked a fight with her was still on suspension.

She didn't really know why she was so desperate to see the young brunette; it wasn't like the girl would want to talk to her anytime soon, not after Grissom had no doubt filled her in on Catherine's snooping expedition.

She had sent off the DNA samples, but the results wouldn't be back for a few weeks if she was lucky and a few months if there was a backlog. She needed to know sooner than that. However, without Sara here, that was proving rather difficult.

She had no intention of actually telling Sara, of course – not until she had the proof in her hands – but she hoped that by spending time with her, she might be able to see something that would allow her to work it out for herself.

A small part of her couldn't help feeling that, if only she had done that five years ago, she might have saved herself a whole lot of heartache.

* * *

She had set off here with a conversation starter in mind; but by the time she arrived outside the office, all the words seemed to have evaporated. She had nothing. All she could do was knock mutely on the plastic doorframe and hope that she located her tongue again soon.

"Hey," she coughed, hesitating for a second too long before stepping into the threshold. "You busy?"

Jim Brass lifted his head wearily from his tedious work and smiled in gratitude at the unexpected visit. He gestured to the chair opposite his desk, a silent answer to her bashful question.

She sank into it uncertainly, shifting her glance around the familiar room. So many early morning conversations held inside these glass walls, but none so deep as the one she was playing out in her mind right now.

Jim took a swig of cold coffee from his mug, pretended to shuffle some papers around and eventually just folded his hands on the desk, waiting patiently for her to speak again. He knew her well enough to realise that something was seriously bothering her right now and she would tell him what it was in her own time.

"Ellie's not yours." She stated at last. It was a random place to begin but she knew where she was going with it. "I mean, I know that she is, but she's not yours _biologically_." She amended hurriedly when the detective scowled indignantly at her.

"No." Brass acknowledged slowly, quirking an eyebrow.

"She doesn't know."

"No."

"Would you ever tell her?" She finally managed to meet his curious stare, but quickly glanced away again lest he should see the fear bubbling away behind her eyes.

"No." He echoed, his gaze never faltering.

She nodded slowly in response to his definitive answer, chewing subconsciously on her lower lip.

"Catherine?" He probed when she didn't speak again.

"I'm worried about her." It was mumbled more to herself than to him, her attention flitting absent-mindedly from one benign object to another in the sparsely decorated office.

"Lindsey?" Jim guessed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. He knew that Cath had been having some issues with the young child ever since Eddie's timely demise; but judging by the way in which she had approached the conversation, there was more than just discipline problems causing her some concern.

He was not about to accuse Catherine of cheating on Eddie, of course; not that he would blame her if she had done. Edward Willows was a scumbag of the highest order, in his humble opinion. Whatever Catherine had or had not done, it couldn't possible measure up to his many indiscretions.

However, she shook her head in confusion at his assumption and quickly dissolved that theory.

"Sara." She corrected, as if it were obvious.

"Oh." He frowned again. That was certainly not what he was expecting, but he was willing to run with it for her sake. "Why?"

"Just...everything. She's ..." Cath trailed off, throwing a hand out helplessly, as if that should explain it all. "I don't know. I guess... I guess I just want to know what's going on in her life." She settled on at last. "Something was wrong with her the other day and I didn't exactly handle it very well."

"No, no I heard." Brass saved her from explaining further. The news of their public spat had travelled fast; but by the time he went to have a talk with Sara, she had already been reprimanded and sent home. "Have you heard from her?"

"Yeah, she uh, she came into the lab to drop something off a couple of days ago."

"Oh, good." Jim nodded, pursing his lips coyly. "Did she say anything, about what happened?"

"No." Cath sighed despondently, catching his eye. Something about the look on his face made her pause and she narrowed her gaze. "You know something, don't you?"

The detective offered a dry chuckle. He should know better than to try and get one past the wily blonde.

"Catherine, what I know is irrelevant." He assured her. "But if you want to find out anything about Sara, then you need to get on the right side of her first. Win her trust back."

"That's easier said than done when she's not speaking to me." She sighed again. Brass couldn't help but feel for the woman. Granted she didn't have the best reputation for dealing with Sara's rebellion, but clearly she _was_ trying.

Jim knew from personal experience that Sara Sidle was a tough cookie to crack, especially when her back was against the wall. But Catherine was persistent, and she obviously cared about the stubborn brunette as much as he did. If only she could find a way to prove that to Sara, she might be the one person who could finally break through those bulletproof walls.

"Catherine, if you want to know Sara better, you need to understand her first." He advised carefully. "And if she won't come to you, then maybe you should go to her."

* * *

Catherine felt the increasingly familiar pang of guilt shoot through her heart as she tapped hurriedly at the keyboard. There was no one in the lab likely to notice, or even care what she was doing; but she felt edgy all the same. If she got caught, it could be the end of her job _and_ her relationship with Sara.

She had taken Brass' advice on board and decided to try and understand Sara better. This started with a simple Google search. After scrolling past half a dozen unhelpful Facebook and Twitter hits for people with similar-sounding names, she gave up and turned her attention to the police databases.

However, it was actually on a Media Intelligence database that she found the goldmine in the form of a twenty-year-old newspaper article from the San Francisco Chronicle.

Everything around her, all the hustle and clattering and conversations distorted by the twisty channels of the lab, seemed to fade to silence as the words embedded themselves in her conscience.

_Stained and blood-splattered walls. A house lost to wreck and ruin_

_A male body, still lying in bed; seven stab wounds to the heart_

_A woman, shaken and catatonic and covered in blood_

_Remanded in custody_ ..._ Social Services arrived on the scene_

_Two sons frequently in trouble with the law_

_And a frightened, beaten and bruised little girl_

In the centre of the article was a grainy photograph of the murdered man, alongside a smaller image of Laura Sidle taken long before the toll of an abusive relationship had ravaged her pretty features. But it was the photographs beneath the text that caught her eye. Two fuzzy images, side-by-side.

The first was of two children. A boy of about seven or eight with unruly dark hair was leaning against the bonnet of a battered teal-blue Mercury Comet. It appeared to be parked outside a seaside motel – their motel, presumably. In front of him, wrapped protectively in his arms, was a very small little girl with dark curls springing around her beaming face. In the motionless picture, she looked like a china doll.

Despite the faded quality of the photo, she could just make out a bandage taped to the child's forehead, above her left eyebrow. Catherine closed her eyes and tried to draw to mind Sara's face, to recall whether or not she had a scar there. If she did, Cath had never noticed it before.

The second picture was even more striking. It had obviously been taken several years before the first one, at a previous residence. The small townhouse struck Catherine as familiar, but it was the boy sitting on the concrete steps that really stood out. He was only about twelve, wearing high-waist shorts and a long, ratty sweater that was reminiscent of the early sixties. Dark, brooding eyes peered out from underneath thick, black bangs. Even in the out-of-focus image, she recognised that face.

That was Jack.

* * *

It was this newspaper article that led Catherine to breaking yet another cardinal rule.

She had long since held the belief that it is not what you know, but who you know; and for once she was grateful that Sam Braun was her father.

Thanks to her unusually detailed knowledge of other people's private lives, Catherine happened to know that Judge Damien Lewis had a penchant for the tables; and his hobby meant he had racked up a fair amount of debt at some of Sam's casinos.

Getting into Judge Lewis' chambers was harder than she expected, but once she was in it was a piece of cake. After a few flirtatious comments, she slyly brought up her connections. It didn't take long for him to catch her drift, and the potential for a clean slate mixed with the sexy blonde's winning smile was obviously too high an offer to refuse. Naturally, he obliged with her request.

She would figure out how to swing it with Sam later, but for now she had everything she needed to get the final piece of the puzzle in the growing enigma that was Sara Sidle.

A signed, blank warrant.

* * *

She stalked through the lab like a woman on a mission, the manila file clutched protectively to her chest; ignoring the curious glances sent her way from lab technicians. They had been avoiding her like the plague all week, but she had barely noticed; her mind persistently elsewhere at the moment.

As soon as she got back to the sanctity of her office, she locked the door and drew the blinds. She was not proud of what she had just done, and she certainly did not need an audience for it.

Sinking heavily into the leather seat behind her desk, she let her head fall onto the table with a dull thud. It was the best way to find out the truth about Sara's childhood and whether or now Sara was truly who Cath thought she was, but this still felt so wrong.

Jim's words replayed in her mind like a cassette stuck on repeat.

"_If you want to know Sara better, you need to understand her first."_

"_If she won't come to you, then maybe you should go to her." _

She was sure that this was not what he had had in mind, but it was the best way for her to find out what she needed to without arising suspicion in Sara.

Here, in her hands, was every piece of data about that girl; the girl that was looking more and more like her daughter with every new detail she discovered.

With a guilty heart and a pained sigh, she sat upright and turned to the first page of Sara's social services file.

* * *

In the back of her mind Catherine was so grateful that she'd had the forethought to lock the door, as she now sobbed quietly over the information in her hands.

That little girl – her little girl – had had a very difficult childhood.

She knew now that Sara was the baby she had lost. Born September 16th, 1973 in Santa Cruz, seventy miles south of San Francisco. The family moved away a week after she was born. One older brother and one half-brother on her mother's side.

Jack never took his step-father's name. No wonder she'd had so much trouble tracking the family down.

That was just page one. After that, it got very dark.

And it was all her fault. Because she had let it happen.


	7. Out in the rain

**Extra long chapter, for your patience :)**

* * *

_March 7__th__, 1973_

Catherine was fairly good at sports, when she actually bothered to turn up to Phys Ed that is. Although, today, she rather wished that she hadn't.

Evidently her friends were still feeling somewhat bitter about her recent attitude and had had a field day at her expense in retaliation.

She first noticed it upon her arrival at school. Stepping into the main corridor, she found herself the subject of sly stares and concealed whispers. This wasn't necessarily untoward – Catherine had been the focal point of many a scandal before – but as she made her way through the crowd, the throngs of students lingering haphazardly outside lockers parted like the red sea, before melting back together again as if she had never even been there.

Overnight, she had become a ghost.

Walking into the locker room, she felt a similar air of misgiving fall over her, as gangs of girls hissed and murmured in hushed tones that blended naturally with her shuffling footfalls on the echoing tiles.

Deciding that she'd rather not know what vile rumour Deborah and Karen had spread about her, Catherine held her head up and stalked passed them as if she didn't see the looks, couldn't hear the sniggers badly stifled behind cupped hands.

It was volleyball today. Ordinarily, Catherine enjoyed this sport, but not today. Not with half the class apparently gunning for her blood.

Before the game had even begun, she found herself backed into a secluded corner of the gymnasium by none other than the Queen Bee herself.

"Catherine." Deborah greeted coolly. The use of her full name meant she was in serious trouble. Then again, how much more trouble could she possibly be in? "I hope you've warmed up properly; something tells me you'll be doing a lot of running today."

"Alright class!" Miss Steiger whistled for the group to take their positions, relieving Catherine of the need to respond to Debs' unbridled threat. However, the girl wasn't quite finished yet.

"Enjoy Dodgeball, _Cathy_." She spat, purposefully knocking into Cath's shoulder as she barged her way to the centre of the court. It didn't even dawn on Catherine until much later, how she had placed a protective hand over her stomach as she took her own place tentatively at the back of the gym.

* * *

'Dodgeball' was right.

Though she had no proof, she was sure it was no coincidence that she was on the opposite side of the net to her companions. After successfully navigating the many, _many_ 'miss-shots' that conveniently kept coming her way, Catherine breathed a sigh of relief as the tortuous game finally ended. Sloping off the court, she practically collapsed onto a rickety bench in search of her water bottle.

It had been a very long time since she'd had to put that much effort into any Phys Ed lesson.

"Alright girls!" Miss Steiger clapped her hands together loudly, a sound which coursed through Cath's pounding skull like a stampede. "Wash up and get changed as quickly as you can. Next class starts in ten minutes!"

Ten minutes, Catherine scoffed dismissively to herself. It was going to take ten days to recover from this workout. Heaving herself to her feet, she turned around to gather her drink and unworn sweater from the bench.

The blow came from nowhere, sharp and swift to the back of the head.

She felt the wind knocked out of her as she fell forwards into the wooden bench. For a moment everything span, her vision becoming blurry and distorted. Her last conscious thought as she hit the cool gymnasium floor was mild curiosity at her instinctive move to wrap an arm around her stomach as she fell.

She couldn't say exactly how long she was down before she became distantly aware of someone calling her name, as a warm hand was placed on her shoulder. When things finally came back into focus, she found herself slumped ungracefully on the floor, while Miss Steiger cautiously checked the bumps growing on either side of her head.

Heidi Steiger was one of the younger teachers, with voluminous blonde curls and a bouncy, constantly caffeinated demeanour. But despite her typical 'bimbo' attributes, she was effortlessly shrewd and could spot a teenage girl's lie from a mile away. Catherine had never liked her for that very reason, but now she was grateful to have the stern young woman on her side.

Her friends – if she could still call them that – were lurking in the corner, scowling as if it was her fault that her head got in the way of their missile.

After reassuring her teacher several times that she was not concussed and the lack of colour in her cheeks was due to shock more than pain, Catherine was helped gingerly to her feet and escorted back to the locker room by a couple of helpful student's she had no recollection of ever meeting before now.

She could feel the piercing gazes of Debs and her crew watching her every steady move, even as Miss Steiger strode across the gym and began laying into them for their 'selfish, thoughtless behaviour'.

Selfish yes, she mused idly as she stripped out of her sweat-stained t-shirt. Thoughtless – no; they had put a lot of thought into their movements. They'd even waited until her back was turned before going in for the kill shot.

* * *

Given the epic failure of her first class of the day, she decided to forgo English and work on a more pressing matter.

It took her the best part of the morning, but she finally tracked down someone she recognised from the St Valentine's Day party. And, although they personally couldn't assist her, they did give her the name of someone who could.

He, in turn, helpfully pointed her in the direction of a tall, sandy-haired guy who she also recognised from that night. Her romantic teenage heart fluttered when she thought she saw a glimmer of recognition in his eye, too; but as quickly as it was there, it vanished.

He did, however, have some information that proved useful in her search.

All in all, her morning had been spent running around like a fly on heat, but it left her with a few promising assurances. The first of these was that the tall, dark stranger she was seeking who went by the name of Jack, was in fact Jack Halliwell. The second thing she learnt was that the local police saw more of him than his teachers did. And finally - crucially - whether he was going to class or not, he could nearly always be found hanging out on the school field, behind the bike shed.

* * *

She could see them. They knew this, of course, but it didn't deter them.

Since they were unabashed in their staring, she felt sanctioned to scrutinise them from across the field where she stood, alone. They were in a small circle, huddled together like the three witches from Macbeth.

It struck her how similar they all looked: straight blonde hair, blue eyes, made up like Marilyn Monroe. Even their patterned school bags were practically the same. She closed her eyes and saw herself stood with them. The same.

Shaking away the uncomfortable thoughts, she turned her back to Deborah and the lap dogs. What difference did it make what they thought of her anyway? She had bigger fish to fry.

She walked a little further away, towards a group of lads sharing smokes out of sight of the patrolling teachers. Most, if not all of them were seniors and they had all been at the St Valentine's Day bash. With one particularly shifty boy acting as lookout from his vantage point sitting cross-legged on the picnic table, the rest were leaning casually against the wire mesh fence surrounding the field.

She saw one boy flick a wavy lock of hair out of his eyes, and caught a glimpse of the dark orbs beneath. Catherine sucked in a deep breath and took a few steps closer. Then she stopped. One of them had spotted her and nudged Jack pointedly in the ribs. His gaze flicked towards her and he spent a long minute looking her up and down, as if trying to place her.

She saw the precise moment recognition hit and she immediately recognised the look flashing through his eyes. It was the same look she had been wearing since their first and last encounter.

Regret.

They still hadn't exchanged a single word. He remained oblivious to their problem – and _theirs_ it was, to be fair. But, she realised now with a deep sadness, that that was how it was going to remain.

Without saying a thing, she turned and walked away. Tears began to sting at her blue eyes but she refused to run. She moved slowly and rhythmically, until she was well out of sight. Then, she took off at a sprint across the playground until she reached the safe refuge of the bleachers.

There, she sat in contemplative silence watching the footballers training for their next big game on Friday.

It was her little secret, and it would stay as her secret until she had no other option but to share it. Clearly, Jack was not interested in anything beyond a one night stand. If that was how he felt, he certainly wouldn't want to raise a baby with her.

Which left her with a heart-sinking realisation. If she was going to do this, she would do it alone.

* * *

"Catherine!"

The girl snapped back to attention so fast she almost got whiplash. Looking up, she shied away from the irate teacher pacing towards her.

"What did I just say?"

Mrs Kinski placed her hands on her hips, one over-plucked eyebrow rising sharply in question. She was a large lady with cold, piercing eyes and greying hair scraped into a bun which, no matter how many pins were used to wrestle it into submission, refused to stay in place.

"I don't know." Catherine answered honestly, having neither the energy nor the inclination to generate a snarky reply today.

"And why not?" The woman asked, stepping closer. Cath chewed her lip, tilting her head towards the high ceiling. Out of the corner of her eye she could see her friends snickering to each other gleefully at her misfortune. "Catherine, I asked you a question."

Slowly, the redhead returned her gaze forwards.

"Because I have better things to worry about than the primary causes of the civil war." She snapped, shoving her chair backwards with an ear-piercing shriek.

As she weaved around the tables with remarkable ease, she could feel twenty pairs of eyes on her but saw nothing more than her own tears building in her eyelids.

"You get back here, young lady!" Mrs Kinski shouted, her blunt order falling on deaf ears. "Catherine Flynn, I mean it!"

But Catherine didn't stop; she kept moving blindly through the school until she burst into the girls toilets, collapsing into a cubicle in a fit of sobs.

What was wrong with her today? She could not get a grip on her emotions, she could not concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes and she was still none-the-wiser about what she was going to do with her little problem.

She ran one shaky hand through her hair, wiping in vain at her eyes with the other and trying to regulate her erratic breathing through short, sharp gasps.

Through her blurred sight she caught a glimpse of something carved into the scarred metal of the cubicle walls. Normally she never took any notice of the graffiti on these walls – unless her own name was mentioned, of course – but something made her read this particular engraving.

And there it was. An answer.

* * *

Catherine looked up at the shabby two-story building before her and then glanced back down at the little card in her hands, where she had hurriedly scrawled the address.

The rain was beating down on her, causing her thin clothes to cling to every gentle curve of her slender adolescent frame. Out here, there was no shelter from the cold and the wind rattled through the thin bones. Tugging her jacket tighter, she glanced around for the hundredth time, as if expecting to find that someone had followed her here from the school.

Satisfied that she was alone, she pushed the mottled glass door open and stepped inside. The hinge creaked ominously and a chime sang a mystic tune above her head, signifying her presence.

A woman glanced up from her spot behind the counter. With long, dark hair curling half way down her back and a burgundy gypsy dress trailing along the dusty floor, she looked like an enchantress from the fantasy books Cath used to read as a child.

Already, she felt out of place here as she noted the many jars of weird and wonderful things lining the shelves. Most of them seemed to contain herbs or powders, although she decided she'd rather not know what was inside some of the others.

"Catherine?" The woman's voice was surprisingly soothing and Cath nodded uncertainly in greeting. She was beckoned through a set of heavy velvet curtains, the deepest shade of purple Catherine had ever seen, into what she assumed was the staff only section of the creepy occult shop.

She followed obediently, hovering in the entrance to the little back room while the woman busied herself with mixing a cocktail of strange things that Catherine had a suspicious feeling had come from some of those jars.

The proprietor was humming to herself idly as she stirred, all but ignoring Catherine's presence until she turned back to face the child again. In her hands was a decidedly revolting looking liquid, congealing in a silver-flecked glass.

"Drink this." She instructed. "It'll make you bleed for a day or two, so you might want to stay off school."

"And the ... the ..." Cath stuttered nervously, eyeing the thick greenish liquid with caution.

"It'll all be taken care of." The lady promised, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Catherine paused, instantly reminded of the events in the gym – of how she had unconsciously tried to protect the thing which she was now so mercilessly destroying.

She accepted the drink with trepidation, staring deep into the swirling patterns on the slimy surface.

"Does it hurt?" She asked meekly, feeling her stomach clench at the mere thought of what she was doing.

"You'll be sore for a few days."

"No, I mean the baby." Cath clarified. "Does it hurt the baby?" In the back of her mind it dawned on her that that was the first time she had called it that. Until now, it had been a nuisance, a constant cause of worry and stress. Only now did it sink in that she was talking about an actual human being.

The woman stared at her frightened face for a long moment, as if trying to read her very soul through the glistening lenses of her eyes.

"Just drink that and everything goes back to normal." She replied at last. Catherine looked from her to the drink once more. Despite this stranger's calm assurances, she doubted that anything was ever going to be normal again.

She took a deep breath and raised the glass to her mouth. One drink and it would all go away.

But barely a drop of the foul fluid made it past her lips when the tiny shop was filled with the sound of shattering glass; and before she could contemplate what had happened, she was outside and running as fast as her legs would carry her.

Tears spilled from her eyes as her feet pounded the pavement, taking her away from that heathen place.

She ran until she couldn't ignore the burning in her thighs anymore, where she crashed against a backstreet wall with a yelp of pain. Her knees caved beneath the weight of her cries and she sank to the ground, curling her legs against her chest. Damp strands of flame-red hair clung to her face as fat raindrops disguised her tears from the world.

"I'm sorry." She choked out between sharp gasps. "I'm so sorry."

She began to rock herself softly, the cold brick wall chilling her back, as she tried to block out the unsavoury sights littering these bad neighbourhood streets. At least she could comfort herself with the knowledge that, out here, no one could see that she was crying.

"I'm sorry." She repeated to the empty alleyway. But in this deserted corner of the universe, with her eyes closed and her head buried in her hands, she couldn't escape the haunting possibility that even her baby wasn't listening anymore.


	8. Memento

Catherine was so lost in her own thoughts; she barely caught the sounds drifting out from the gloomy depths of Grissom's lair. She hadn't even been going in, only passing by, but that soft voice stopped her in her tracks.

Pausing for a moment longer than she should, Cath leant closer to the half-open door – close enough to hear the conversation without running the risk of being spotted by the inhabitants.

"That can't be it; there must be something else we can do." Sara whimpered; and even from outside the room Catherine could hear the desperate tears in her cracked voice.

"Sara," she heard Grissom sigh; a familiar, exasperated sigh. "You've got to stop doing this."

"I know." Sara replied weakly; and the knot in Catherine's stomach tightened. "But I can't help it."

There was a long pause and she was about to walk away, when Gil spoke up again.

"Maybe you should go back to the shrink for a while."

Cath had to resist the urge to snort in derision, for she could practically picture the brunette stiffening up at his suggestion.

It was not well known around the lab that Sara had recently been seeing the departmental psychologist, but Catherine knew; and the mere thought of it made her sad. The idea of her little girl sharing her deepest thoughts and fears with some stranger instead of her – well, it was distressing to say the least.

Unable to resist temptation any longer, she dared a glimpse of the scene inside and peered cautiously through the crack. She had to bite back a protest at the sight of Grissom's hand firmly placed on Sara's hunched shoulder blade, his fingers gently massaging the tense muscles beneath her thin t-shirt.

Shaking away the disconcerted feelings settling themselves in the pit of her stomach, she finally stepped away; forgoing the opportunity to hear Sara's response.

She knew what it would be anyway.

* * *

When she finally made it into the locker room, she was eternally grateful to discover it empty. Balancing her handbag on the edge of her open locker, she unzipped it and began carefully moving objects aside in search of one item in particular. Folded neatly between her purse and her compact mirror, she extracted the newspaper article relaying the sad tale of Sara's family life.

Her focus, as usual, was on the grainy photograph at the bottom – on that face. The more she stared at it, the more she found she could remember about Jack. He was younger in this picture, barely even a teenager; but she could still see the young adult in him. It was in the strong shape of his jaw, the adorable little half-smile and those impossibly expressive eyes.

Letting her own eyes fall closed, she could almost hear his voice now; thick and low, with an underlying Mediterranean hum that had so effortlessly melted her teenage heart.

Catherine knew that she should throw this away, that it was bordering on morbid to keep it; but it was the only photo she had of her little girl as a child. It may be sick, but she was going to treasure it.

And she was in that same spot, still stroking the tiny face fondly with the tip of her index finger; when she sensed someone enter.

Sara came in like a ghost and sank onto the bench, facing away from her companion. The brunette didn't even seem aware of Catherine's presence in the room, or at least if she was then she didn't care.

Cath turned, watching her carefully. Her head was dropped, her gaze submerged in her lap, with long tresses shielding her face from anyone who might try to sneak a glance. Always protecting herself, Catherine thought forlornly.

"Sara." She called out at last, her voice weaker than she expected.

"I know; I shouldn't empathise with the victims, save the sermon." Sara mumbled, wiping at her eyes in vain. The melancholy in her voice was painful to hear and Catherine sucked in a deep breath to drown the sob trying to escape.

"That's not what I was going to say." She retorted at last, closing her locker and turning to stare at the back of her colleague's dipped head. "Grissom's wrong about you. There's nothing wrong with wanting to help someone."

Sara twisted around, blinking up at her superior through unshed tears.

"That's not what you said a few weeks ago." She pointed out, letting her eyes fall back into her lap with the weariness of someone who hadn't been home in far too long.

"I was wrong, too." Catherine admitted. Sara didn't respond to her quiet confession, but the slight movement as she cocked her head to the side suggested she had definitely heard it.

Cath hovered nervously behind the bench for a moment, deliberating; before deciding to risk a bold move. She placed her hands tentatively on Sara's shoulders, before sliding them down to pull the girl into a hug from behind.

Sara gripped the arms suddenly encasing her, taken aback by the unprecedented embrace. In all the years working together, Catherine had never so much as offered a friendly nudge or a tender caress of the hand.

She could feel the older woman's chest heaving against her back, soft breath on the nape of her neck, while strawberry blonde tresses cascaded over her shoulders in gentle curls.

"You're a very sweet girl." Cath whispered, placing a feather light kiss on her cheek.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, it was over. She stood up, smoothed out her shirt and walked away, letting one hand trail lightly across Sara's back as she went.

And with the older woman striding out of the room and fading into the bustling hallway, Sara was left alone to wonder in bemusement whether that had actually just happened.

* * *

When Catherine got home, she was instantly hit by the insanely loud music blaring from the top of the stairs. Tossing her bag onto the couch, she cleared the distance in less than five steps.

"Lindsey!" She hammered impatiently on the girl's door. Upon getting no response, she swung it open and walked in uninvited. Her daughter was curled up on the bed, phone in hand mid-text, wearing a look of unbridled hostility at being interrupted.

Cath ignored the dirty look as she stalked over to the stereo and clicked it off, removing the CD for good measure.

"Mom!" Lindsey complained, but Catherine was not in the mood for protestations today.

"Read a book." She suggested bluntly, letting the door slam shut on her way out.

* * *

Having palmed her mother off with a lame excuse for her bad mood and sent her on her merry way, Cath squirreled herself up in her bedroom and let the shower wash away the stress of the trying shift.

As she stood under the hot water, swimming in steam, her mind wandered involuntarily back to that moment in the locker room.

She could still recall the feeling of Sara in her arms. She couldn't believe that in five years she had never properly hugged her colleague.

She hadn't wanted to let go, but had she stayed any longer it would only have been a matter of time before she said something she'd regret. The last thing she needed was for Sara to find out the truth in a moment of uncontrollable emotion – especially given their track record for expressive outbursts.

She wrapped her arms around herself, closed her eyes and tried to remember what it had felt like all those years ago; the sensation of having that tiny little baby curled protectively against her body.

She could almost picture it; how Sara had scrunched her eyes tightly closed, burying her little face in Cath's shirt, hands flexing and grasping at thin air. She was beautiful, perfect. Against all odds, she had been born without a single defect or side-effect from her almost-termination.

Biting back a pained cry, Catherine plastered both hands over her face and let the water wash away the guilty tears she had been bottling up for so long.

* * *

She didn't even bother to dry her hair, leaving it to create a damp patch on the back of her t-shirt.

Crouching down, she fumbled around under the bed until her fingers groped something solid and smooth. She pulled out the small wooden box with a smile, situating herself crossed-legged on the bed with it.

It had been a long time since she had looked at this. Too long.

When she first realised that Sara was her daughter, she had retrieved it from its previous hiding place atop her wardrobe; but thus far she hadn't had the guts to open it.

She ran her hand across the planed surface, feeling the dust wrap itself around her fingers. There was nothing fancy about the box; it was plain dark wood with the telltale scars of age adorning its exterior. The true value of its worth lay on the inside.

Casting a glance at the door to make sure she was alone, as if she wouldn't be, she lifted the flat lid and placed it carefully to one side.

Her hands danced over the few meagre contents. A hospital band, a tattered and frayed photograph, a teddy. She pulled out a folded, well-used piece of paper and suppressed a chuckle at the curvy, girlish scrawl.

_Nicola_

_Rebecca_

_Andrea_

_Dana_

_Brooke_

_Morgan  
_

_Annabelle_

She thought of the hours spent laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling as she worked through the alphabet of names. Most of her pregnancy entailed fretting about the baby, but she had experienced a few fleeting days of elation at the idea and on these days she thought of nothing but the good things a child would bring to her life. The idea of having something all her own, to love her unconditionally, had kept her going during the fights and the stress and the never-ending sleepless nights.

With a sad sigh she folded it back up and returned it to her poignant collection. Then, taking the newspaper article, she stroked that sullen little face a final time, before also placing it delicately in the box with the rest of her untold memories.


	9. Character, like a photo develops in dark

**Sorry it's shorter than usual x**

_October 25th 1973_

Catherine cracked the box open, peering inside expectantly as if she was going to see something different. But there was nothing new. A few letters, a list of names, the jacaranda; fixed a piece of card with cellophane in order to preserve the delicate petals. She recalled how her heart had swelled when Jack reached up, allowing her to glimpse a strip of toned stomach beneath his tight t-shirt, and plucked that purple flower from the tree above their heads. The tree beneath which she had lost her virginity.

She had found that flower, crumpled but amazingly still intact, nestled in her golden waves the next morning.

She sighed, a silent tear crawling down her cheek. This was it? This was all she had of her daughter. Sniffing back more sobs, she attempted to keep her composure, but it was a battle she was going to lose.

She heard her mother come upstairs and approach the bedroom door; but she still didn't tear her attention from the box clasped in her lap. Lily had stopped in the threshold and was hovering uncertainly, debating whether or not to interrupt her daughter's deeply personal moment.

After a few seconds of silent deliberation, she perched on the edge of the bed and took Catherine's hand gently in her own, waiting for her to speak.

"I miss her." Catherine whispered.

"I know, sweetheart." Lily nodded sympathetically, leaning over to press a kiss into her hair. Cath leant against her, allowing her mother to wrap her into an awkward hug. "I know it's hard, but it'll get easier once we move ... when we're far away from this town."

The words were mumbled into silky blonde hair, as Catherine snuggled against her mother's chest. The girl didn't speak – they both knew Lily's assurance was a lie, but neither would acknowledge it. They never did.

Releasing her daughter, Lily picked up the flower and examined it curiously for a moment before placing it carefully back in the box.

"You did the right thing, giving her up. You know that?" She said at last.

"I know." Cath mumbled, although her mother could tell that her heart wasn't in it.

"She's with her family. She's happy and healthy and well looked after." The woman continued, attempting to inject positivity into her voice that wasn't there.

"What if she's not?"

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, as if that wasn't even an option.

"What if she's not happy?" Catherine repeated, blinking up at her mother with bright blue eyes.

A heavy silence followed, a range of emotions battling for supremacy in the desperate staring contest taking place.

"She will be." Lily answered calmly at last. She kissed Catherine again and stood up, straightening the creases in her skirt. "Don't forget to put those away before Martin gets home."

As Catherine watched her leave, she couldn't help but wonder whether, in that silence before she had replied, Lily had first been trying to convince herself of the answer.

* * *

She was still staring bleakly at the sad contents of her treasure box when another person crept into her room. She caught the tentative movement in the corner of her tear-filled eye.

"Get out." She snapped, wiping futilely at her eyes to hide the fact that she had been crying. Instead of obliging, however, Nancy continued to edge closer.

"Is that your box for the baby?" She asked innocently, peeking inside. Catherine slapped the lid on it, keeping it private and Nancy took a step back, understanding her wishes. "I brought you something for it." She mumbled weakly instead.

Catherine took the offered gift, turning it over. It was a photograph, taken on the night her daughter had been born. She was sat, crossed legged on hospital bed, baby in her arms. The child was nuzzling against her, one tiny fist clutching desperately at her chest. Catherine was just staring down at her, smiling contentedly.

Cath vaguely remembered Nancy flitting about with that precious camera in her hands, but she did not remember her taking this picture.

At eight years old, Nancy had wanted to be an artist. By nine, that had progressed to photographer and by nine-and-a-half she has aspirations of being a filmmaker. Either way, her camera was never far from her side.

A sob escaped Catherine's lips against her will. She looked up at Nancy, tears brimming in her eyes.

"I was saving it." The girl explained nervously.

To her surprise, Catherine reached down and hugged her little sister tightly, inhaling her sweet honey scent. When Nancy returned the unprecedented embrace, Cath dragged her onto the bed, settling her on her lap, and opened the box.

* * *

Left in peace once again, Catherine could not take her eyes off that picture. It was grainy and not entirely in focus, but it was her baby. Whenever she looked at it, she found that she could remember that moment so clearly; the feel of the baby's breath on her chest, the tiny little fingers holding onto her for dear life.

She heard the front door open and close, snapping her rudely back to the present. Martin was home. She hurriedly grabbed her box, instinctively going to put the photograph in it, but something stopped her. She placed the lid on the box and slipped it back under her bed. As for the photo, that she hid protectively under her pillow.

And at night, when she was alone with her thoughts and her memories, only the shadows bearing witness to her tears, she pulled that photo out and held it firmly against her heart.


	10. Bound

**Much longer chapter for you all today. Based on episode Committed (s5e21) Enjoy, let me know what you think x**

* * *

"Hey you." She glided into the locker room, beaming at her companion. Sara, in return, cast a shy smile over her shoulder in greeting.

Contrary to her normal work attire – usually something well-worn and effortlessly causal – she was wearing dark blue, tight-fitting jeans and a satin green top which shimmered and sparkled under the harsh artificial lights.

"You look nice, going out?" Cath noted, giving her colleague a once over.

Green always did suit the brunette.

"Yeah I, uh, I've got a date." Sara answered nervously, a coy grin playing on her lips.

Catherine froze, her hands poised over her locker door.

"A date?" She repeated, her throat turning inexplicably dry.

"Yeah, do you think this is okay? Because I have..."

"No, no, you look great." Cath cut her off absently; walking over to untangle the thin straps of Sara's top, as if it were the most natural act in the world. "So, who is he?"

She tried to sound casual as she ran her hands over soft skin, noting the light freckles adorning Sara's shoulders.

"Brad. I met him in a bar the other night."

"A bar?" Cath repeated sceptically, a suspicious eyebrow arching in question.

"Yeah. We're going to see a show tonight. You know, in all the time I've lived here I've never been to a Vegas show."

Normally she would have smiled at Sara's cute enthusiasm, but she was too preoccupied by the anxious voice gnawing at the back of her mind; something which continued to bypass the quietly excited brunette.

"You'll love it." She mumbled, idly fussing with Sara's hair – draping it carefully over her shoulders and twisting brunette tresses through her fingers to further emphasise the loose curls. She was surprised that Sara was allowing this invasion of her personal space, but she was not about to complain. "Just, be careful yeah?"

"I will." Sara answered distractedly, turning to search for something in her locker. Cath reached around her waist and stilled her hands.

"Sara," She tried again, more forcefully this time. "Promise me you'll be careful."

The younger woman turned to frown at her colleague.

"I will." She repeated, soberly this time. Cath nodded slowly, releasing her wrists.

"Good." She mumbled at last, tucking a final strand of hair behind Sara's ear. "I worry about you sometimes." She offered quietly by way of explanation for her over-protective behaviour.

Sara shot her a smile, touching her arm lightly in gratitude.

"I'm fine." She promised in a confident tone that only served to heighten Catherine's guilt. "I can look after myself."

* * *

It wasn't that Catherine didn't believe Sara, or didn't trust her. It was _the date_ that she didn't trust; which is how she found herself sitting in her car on The Strip, waiting patiently for them to arrive.

Finding out where they were going had been easy, courtesy of Warrick. Convincing her mother to babysit was significantly harder, but the guilt trip she would suffer tomorrow was worth it.

She knew that this was ridiculous, of course. She didn't even spy on _Lindsey _when she went out. Then again, Lindsey didn't go on dates with people she had met in bars.  
In the back of her mind she wondered whether, a few years from now, she'd find herself doing exactly this with her younger child.

She tried to push the thought away, but it wouldn't leave her alone.

What was she doing? Her daughter was 31 years old and she was spying on her? Stalking her dates, for crying out loud!

She dropped her head onto the steering wheel, letting out a frustrated groan. She had been a wreck ever since she read that damn personnel file and it was driving her crazy. She had this undying need to take care of Sara, but she also couldn't ignore the fact that the girl did not need her anymore.

Sara was right; she could take care of herself.

With a depressed sigh, she booted up her car and took off into the glare of the lights, barely missing the chance to see Sara and Brad ambling arm-in-arm down the street.

* * *

Catherine nearly fell out of her seat when the call came in. She was out of her office and into the car in a heartbeat, not even bothering to hang up the phone.

Despite taking two wrong turns and going the wrong way down a one-way street, she still made it to the hospital in record time. Swerving into the parking lot, the first thing she noticed was the unnecessary number of police cars and a solitary ambulance; something which immediately sent her already panicked senses into overdrive. She slammed her foot on the brakes, spinning the car to an abrupt stop and launched herself out of the vehicle.

Though the rain had finally dried up, deep puddles littered the path like a thousand tiny mirrors reflecting every garish blue light of the muted police sirens.

"Where is she?"

Grissom and Brass, huddled together a few feet away from the circus, started at her frantic approach. Jim, for his part, looked about ready to hit something, while Gil just seemed lost in the chaos.

The detective pointed towards a car that was parked a bit further away from the others. Sofia was hovering near it uncertainly, and behind the blonde detective Catherine could just make out a figure wrapped in a blanket. Sara was sat in the backseat, facing out of the car; but her face was shrouded in shadow and impossible to read.

Without waiting for any explanation, Cath tore through the crowd towards them. Sofia spotted her coming and quickly stepped out to block her path.

"She's alright." The blonde rushed out, preventing Catherine from marching straight past her towards the car. "She's very shaken up."

"She won't go to hospital. She won't even let anyone near enough to check her over." Brass explained breathlessly, catching up.

Catherine peered around Sofia, catching a glimpse of Sara's blank, numb expression. She looked scared – catatonic even – but she wasn't going anywhere for the time being.

"What actually happened?" She demanded, clawing a hand through her windswept hair. The question was directed at all of them, but it was Grissom, still dazed by this horrific turn of events, who answered.

"I was only gone for a minute." He explained, sounding mystified by his own words.

"What happened?" Catherine asked again firmly. This time Sofia stepped up to bat.

"One of the inmates got hold of her. He attacked her with a makeshift weapon and ... forced himself into her mouth." She glanced away, her stomach churning at the mere thought of the attack – or the knowledge of who it was against. Catherine's jaw dropped open, tears instantly starting to form in her eyes.

"How...how did he... How did he get hold of her?" She managed to ask despite her shock.

"They were searching the nurse's station." Brass interjected, nodding towards Grissom. "He went to find someone who could unlock the cupboards and ..."

"You left her alone?" She whirled on the forlorn-looking man beside her.

"I ... I didn't think." He answered softly, still shaking his head.

Despite being one of the only witnesses to the actual assault, it still didn't quite seem real to him. He had seen more sexual assault victims in his career than he cared to recall and most of their faces had blurred to obscurity in his memory, but this wasn't just another face. The idea that his Sara was just another statistic, another case ... another victim - it was a thought that even his brilliant mind could not comprehend.

He looked so utterly pathetic right now, with his hair flattened by the rain and his face gaunt with unspoken horror, Catherine didn't know whether to hug him or hit him.

Electing to do neither, she pushed past them all and made her way carefully over to Sara. The brunette moved ever so slightly in the gloom, sensing her approaching presence.

"Hey sweetheart." Cath started gently, appraising her reaction. When Sara didn't speak, didn't appear to acknowledge her greeting at all, she bent down into her line of sight.

There was a bruise already starting to develop on her left cheek where she had been hit with something. Catherine reached out carefully to tilt the girl's head, attempting to get a better look at it. She half expected Sara to pull away or flinch at the contact, but surprisingly the injured woman leant into the touch. Silent tears started to spill over Catherine's hand where it lay on her cold cheek.

"It's alright, baby." Cath whispered, inching closer. Two arms snaked out from the blanket Sara was cocooned in, searching for comfort, and Catherine moved to catch her in a tight hug. She ran her fingers through soft brown tresses, the same ones she had helped style to perfection not twelve hours ago, and murmured comforting words against Sara's skin.

She could feel hot tears soaking through her thin t-shirt, taking her instantly back thirty-one years. The flashing lights, the earnest paramedics hovering nearby, the bone-chilling breeze whipping against her back ... it all faded away against the memory of the last time Catherine had held her daughter so tight.

A hand on her shoulder snapped her back to reality before her mind could get sucked in and she turned, still holding Sara against her.

"We need to get her out of here." Sofia explained softly, looking down at Sara with a sympathetic glaze in her blue eyes. Cath nodded and carefully untangled herself from the distraught brunette.

"Hey, we're going to take you back to the lab now, okay?" She said, ensuring to keep at least some physical contact with the patient as she stood up to face the guys again.

"She doesn't need..." Brass shook his head, understanding what she meant.

"No, this doesn't need to go further. We know what happened. And in any case, they're not going anywhere." He gestured sombrely to the inmates still locked up inside the bleak building behind him. Cath nodded, both relieved and sad at the same time. There would be no lengthy investigation to worry about, but there would be no real justice either.

"She might be hurt." Grissom jumped with the sudden realisation. "He had a weapon ... it was like a piece of pottery, or something..."

"I'll check her over at the lab." Cath assuaged his fears. "Doc Robbins can take a look if necessary."

With this assurance in place, the men stood back and watched on as the women got Sara securely fastened into the car. There was no need for discussion. Sofia would drive, while Catherine sat in the back with the patient; who had stopped crying and already reverted back to her numb, composed silence.

On the ride back Sofia satisfied herself with focusing on the road, flicking her gaze to the rear-view mirror every now and then to check on her passengers. Sara was bundled up in the blanket, staring into her lap. Catherine was holding her hand tightly, her gaze fixed on her companion.

The detective couldn't help noticing the shift in feeling between the women. She knew that they had never exactly been close. She also knew that Catherine Willows was fiercely protective of everyone in her team, no matter how little she socialised with them outside the office.

But something about the way in which Catherine was staring at Sara seemed different to her. It was more intense, more passionate. Whatever it was, there was more than just concern for a colleague behind that deeply furrowed brow.

* * *

As soon as they got back to the lab, Sofia left Sara in Catherine's capable hands while she went to find the boys and break the news that tragedy had befallen one of their own.

Catherine knew that she had to check Sara over, but the prospect of it was making her stomach turn. After a moment of deliberation, she opted to use her office in the hope that it might make Sara feel at least a little safer.

Although, judging by the way the brunette was twitching nervously, as if she expected something to jump out at her from behind the couch, it was an effort in vain.

Catherine locked the door, drew the blinds and and dragged a chair over, sitting herself directly in front of the girl. She waited patiently until Sara made eye contact before reaching out to stroke her bruised cheek softly with the back of her hand.

"It'll be okay." She whispered, trying to fight back the surge of emotion stirring in the pit of her stomach. Sara nodded weakly, letting her eyes flutter closed.

"I want to go home." They were the first words that she had said since her ordeal began and her timid voice cracked with the very effort of uttering them.

"I know, sweetie." Cath exhaled. "You can soon. I just need to make sure that you're alright first, okay?" Again, Sara just nodded, drawing a comforting smile from her supervisor.

The mark on her face where the assailant had hit her did not seem serious, just painful, so Cath let it be. She tugged at Sara's long-sleeved grey top gently, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Take this off?"

Sara obliged, lifting it over her head in stiff, pained movements. Trying to ignore the maternal stirrings at the sight of her daughter's underweight figure, Catherine picked up her wrists and turned them over, examining the defensive scratches. They, like the bruise, did not seem serious enough to warrant further treatment and were left alone.

There was a wound on her stomach, a few inches long but not deep enough to cause concern, just beneath her ribcage. An angry red mark on her neck demonstrated a similar pattern and Catherine assumed these were made by whatever makeshift weapon he had been brandishing.

Armed with a clean, damp cloth and a first aid kit, Catherine reclaimed her seat and carefully began tending to the clotted injury on her stomach.

"Good girl." She mumbled, dabbing tentatively at the cut with antiseptic solution. It shouldn't need stitches, she decided, but it would hurt like a bitch for a few days. Sara remained very still, keeping her gaze averted.

As she worked, Cath continued to cast regular glances at her friend's face. When their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, she swore she could see shame or embarrassment creeping onto Sara's features and quickly recaptured her gaze.

"It's not your fault." She said sternly.

"I know." Sara mumbled, ducking her head again.

"I know it's hard, feeling exposed like this," Catherine continued, letting her fingers graze the sensitive skin of Sara's stomach as she dressed the injury. "But you're safe now."

As soon as she released her colleague, Sara moved to put her t-shirt back on, but Catherine managed to pull her into a quick hug before she could. She felt Sara's whole body tense for a moment, before relaxing into the embrace. It was awkward, but it was something they both needed, for very different reasons.

When they finally separated, Sara re-dressed quickly and Catherine straightened her office up.

"Come on." She held out a hand to her stricken colleague. "I'll take you home."

It was a phrase Sara had been waiting to hear and she wasted no time in launching to her feet, wrapping both arms protectively around herself – holding herself together.

"Would you like to stay with me tonight?" Catherine offered, interlocking their fingers tightly and leading her into the blissfully quiet corridor.

"No, I'll be okay." Sara insisted with a small shudder. "I just want to go home and pretend tonight never happened."

Catherine's expression must have belayed her concern, because Sara attempted to send her a meek smile.

"I'll be alright." She repeated, sounding as though she was trying to convince herself more than anybody else.

The strawberry-blonde nodded, her heart sinking just a little bit. She knew she had to respect Sara's wishes, even if it went against every maternal instinct in her body.

"Okay. But my door is always open." She reiterated with wishful tint to her voice; a silent offer of hope for herself, if not one of comfort to Sara. "_Always_."


	11. Love, like a flower

_Valentine's Day, 1973_

Catherine felt like she was walking onto the set of a teen movie when she arrived at the party. It was on a deserted patch of grassland behind the park; one of those places where parents tell their kids to stay away from, especially at night.

_'You never know who's lurking about down there',_ she heard her mother's voice chanting in her ears.

Pushing the warning aside, she cast a studious glance around the open space. There were students floating about everywhere she looked, propping themselves up against trees and benches and each other. Crates of beer were stacked by the dozen on the periphery of the party, many being used as makeshift tables and chairs.

A cluster of red balloons drifted by lazily in the soft breeze.

Upon noting the skimpy mini-skirts and bikini tops wandering past, despite the cold, Catherine suddenly felt very overdressed in her above-the-knee length dress with the gentle lace trim.

Still, it was Valentine's Day. And she was at a senior's party.

Plastering a smile on her face, she stepped bravely into the lion's den.

* * *

She had to say she was surprised by the events of the party, or lack thereof. There was loud music and drinking – lots of drinking – and she had seen more people than she could recall making out against trees or fences or, in a few cases, other people. Aside from that, nothing had really happened. She couldn't help but wonder whether this was what all high school parties were like: an endless orgy of sex, booze and tunes running late into the night.

Either way, she was still glad to have been here. She couldn't wait to tell the girls, they would be so jealous that they missed this!

Not that they would have come, even if she'd invited them. Donna might have with some persuasion, but Karen would have had a fit at the thought of disobeying her parents like this and Deborah would be too scared that her father might find out and smack the crap out of her.

As Catherine ambled amongst the drunken students, she suddenly realised that she was about the smallest person here, and definitely one of the youngest. There were a few other people from her year and the year above, but they were primarily male.

One, in particular, caught her eye. She did not recognise him from school, but then she didn't often feel the need to take notice of people outside her circle of friends.

He was tall and had sweeping dark hair that fell across his eyes in relaxed waves. His chest muscles were taut beneath his skin-tight t-shirt and his lightly tanned skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat, despite the low February temperatures.

She jumped when he turned, embarrassed to be caught staring at him. He, however, didn't seem to mind so much as he flashed a half-smile and winked at her from beneath those dark locks. Catherine's heart sang. She hovered about like a lemon for a moment, not knowing quite what to do, before deciding to be bold.

Holding her head up, she stalked over to where he and his mates were lounging by a row of hedges. Some of the other guys, many a couple of years older than herself, had clocked her approach and someone wolf-whistled.

As soon as she got to within a metre she panicked. What did she say?

"Hi." The guy filled in for her, flashing that effortlessly gorgeous smile again.

"Hey." She answered shyly, smiling back. One of the other guys appeared by her left side and draped an arm around her shoulders.

"What's a pretty young thing like you doing wandering out here all alone?" He crooned. She didn't know what to say, so she laughed nervously and attempted to subtly shrug him off. Someone threw a can of beer at her and she stared at it dumbly for a moment.

"You drink it." He explained slowly, miming the action. Her own words to her mother flashed through her mind: _'I won't be drinking.'_

Then again, her mother didn't know that she was here. And one couldn't hurt, right? She pulled the tab, watching the foam rise out of the can like smoke. The lads cheered and they all downed a swig of their drinks in celebration. Catherine lifted it to her mouth, ignoring the foul smell. She could see her handsome stranger's brooding eyes on her as the bitter liquid passed her lips.

He looked proud.

* * *

There were six of them, mostly seniors; although Jack, the dark haired guy, was only 15.

Catherine was on her third can of the awful tasting drink by now. Halfway through the second, she had stopped noticing the aftertaste.

She felt alive, like her whole body was physically buzzing, as she laughed and joked with the boys. They seemed to like her. She revelled in their playful jokes, doing her best to make them smile, but it was Jack's approval that she sought the most.

She was trying to act casual and nonchalant towards him, but she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips every time she noticed him watching her from those deep, coffee-coloured orbs.

Some sort of scuffle broke out behind them and the lads abandoned their drinks to run off and watch, leaving Catherine and Jack alone. She smiled up at him nervously. He offered her another can but she shook her head; she felt unstable enough as it was. Taking the hint, he offered her his hand instead.

She let him walk her away from the crowd, not really sure where he was taking her but not really caring either. They stopped a hundred feet or so away from everyone else and he let go of her, leaning casually against a tree.

"You look cute when you smile." He stated randomly. Away from the music, she could hear his voice properly and noticed for the first time a hint of something foreign in his accent. His tanned skin and dark features alluded to the Mediterranean. Spain, perhaps?

She blushed furiously at his words, tucking a stray strand of red hair behind her ear. He laughed and shot out a hand, pulling her in to him. With one arm tightly around her waist, holding her against his chest, he reached up. His t-shirt riding up to reveal a strip of toned stomach and causing Catherine's heart to beat a little faster. His fingers danced along the leaves above his head, finally settling on a bright purple flower. He tugged it lightly, snapping it from its branch, and brought it down to stroke the soft petals against her cheek.

"Bella ragazza" He whispered, tucking the pretty flower into her strawberry-blonde hair as she beamed up at him. She could feel the heat emanating from him and all of a sudden she felt very sober. She was about to ask him what his words meant, when he kissed her lips softly, so softly. She felt like she was going to fall over but his strong hands gripped her waist and lowered her to the ground.

She knew what was going to happen, but it felt surreal all the same. His hands glided across her body, like silk. His lips sought out new and untouched areas of her skin. She bit back a cry as he slid into her, clamping down on the pain that surged through her body. He was gentle, but there was a fierceness in his movements that scared her slightly. She gripped his strong, naked back firmly; letting him hold her together while he tore her apart. She could feel his hot breath on her neck in sharp, panting gasps.

She knew about sex, of course she did, but this was not what she thought it would be like.

* * *

She didn't know how long they were there, but when it was all over she felt a sudden rush of embarrassment wash over her. More than that, she felt exposed.

Jack stood up and put his shirt back on. Illuminated by the floodlights, his silhouette seemed so strong and masculine against her small, fragile body. He helped her up, no words spoken, and walked her back to the crowd of oblivious party-goers.

They had no idea what had just occurred, but she knew. She would always know.

She didn't stay long after that. She walked home alone; sore and bruised. Numb.

And yet strangely alive inside.


	12. Truth hurts

**Alright, the moment you've waited for. Hope it doesn't disappoint. Leave a review, let me know what you thought x**

**x x x x**

Catherine stopped in the doorway to the locker room, her gaze dragging over the only other occupant.

"Hey." She said softly at last. Sara looked up, offering a sad smile in greeting. "You alright?" She asked, moving around to lean against the lockers in front of her.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Sara nodded, trying to project a confidence that wasn't there. Cath raised an eyebrow, waiting. "I've just come from the shrink." The young woman said at last. Cath breathed in deeply, understanding. She sat down next to Sara and took her hand loosely.

"How is counselling going?" She asked gently.

"Okay, I guess." Sara nodded. "I just...never mind."

"What?" Cath pressed, squeezing her hand tighter.

"I just don't like talking about this sort of thing with strangers." The brunette confessed.

"I know." Cath nodded sympathetically. "You know; if ever you want someone else to talk to, someone who knows you, I'm always here." Sara looked up, her dark eyes searching Catherine's face for something. Sincerity maybe.

"Thank you." She mumbled at last. And to Catherine's utmost surprise, Sara hugged her. For the first time in over 5 years the younger woman initiated physical contact. Catherine could have cried. But she didn't. She returned the embrace tightly, holding Sara to her. She could practically feel the girl's heartbeat against her chest. She submerged her face in sweet smelling brown curls, revelling in the feeling, too scared to let go in case this was the last time she got to hold her.

X x x

Cath felt like she was suffering from déjà-vu when she walked back into the locker room a few hours later and found Sara in the same place, staring at the same benign spot on the floor.

"Oh, hey." She greeted, surprised. Again, Sara looked up, but this time her smile was genuine.

"Hi."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Sara nodded. "I uh, I wanted to thank you, for earlier. Well, for everything." She mumbled shyly.

"It's okay." Cath said, a confused smile playing on her lips. "How are you dealing with everything, anyway?" She asked, reclaiming her earlier seat.

"I'm okay." Sara promised.

"It's alright to let these things affect you, you know." Cath chastised gently, nudging her. "How are you really?"

"I'm ... I'm dealing." Sara answered at last. Cath watched her closely for a long moment.

"Okay." She agreed at last, patting Sara's leg. "But if you need me, for anything, you know where I am." She reiterated. "Sara, what happened..." she paused, gathering her thoughts. "That's not something that anyone can expect you to get over quickly. Just, don't rush yourself alright. Use us; if you need to, that's what we're here for." Sara smiled her thanks and nodded.

"I will." She promised.

X x x

"Ok Cat, I get it; you can drop it now." Sara said, rolling her eyes as she entered the locker room, an irate Catherine Willows hot on her heels.

"No, I will not drop it; you could have gotten yourself killed! What were you thinking?" She demanded, hovering behind her.

"I was thinking he was going to do runner out of the bathroom window."

"So you tackled him to the ground? The police clear scenes Sara, not us! You know that."

"Okay, message received and understood. But we got him." There was a hint of pride in Sara's voice that just riled Catherine even more.

"You're just damn lucky that he wasn't armed, anything could have happened." Sara didn't respond so she continued, the words escaping without a second thought. "I don't want to lose you again."

"What?" Sara asked, her curiosity peaked. For a moment Catherine looked startled at her little slip up, but somehow she managed to recover quickly.

"After what happened; I can't believe that you're still taking stupid risks with your life."

"I've dealt with that. I'm fine." Sara said flippantly.

"Dealt with it? Sara, you were raped." Catherine shouted, seeing the shock on Sara's face as if she had slapped her. Cath took a deep breath and started again. "You need to be more careful with your life. I do not want to see you get hurt again."

"I can take care of myself. I told you; I'm fine." Sara was curious as to why this bothered Catherine so much, she's never seen her quite this worked up, and it wasn't exactly the first time she had taken stupid risks at work.

"That's beside the point Sara. You have got to take responsibility for yourself; I do not want to lose you."

"What difference would it make?" Sara mumbled, turning as though to leave.

"Don't you dare!" Catherine warned, her voice low. "Don't you dare walk out on me."

"Why?" Sara asked, but she didn't stop walking until Catherine's exasperated cry froze her in place.

"Because I'm your mother!" The words hung in the air like the sword of Damocles.

Sara turned slowly, confusion clouding her dark eyes. Something about the tone of her voice and the horrified look in Catherine's eyes told her that this was not some strange joke.

"What?" She asked, assuming she's misheard. But she had heard perfectly well. Catherine stepped closer, holding her hands up.

"Sara, I ... I can explain..." Cath tried to say, but the words barely made it out. The young brunette staggered backwards, stumbling into the doorframe and running out of the room before Catherine could stop her. The older CSI gasped for breath, tears filling her eyes. She turned slowly, finding herself face to face with the baffled expressions of Nick and Warrick. Without a word she pushed past them and sprinted through the maze of glass corridors in search of her daughter.

X x x

Having exhausted the lab Catherine was left with one place left to search. The roof.

And that is where she found the elusive brunette, leaning against the railing and staring out into the dazzling lights of the Strip. Not wanting to startle her, Cath opted to just observe her for a moment, however Sara must have sensed her presence because she spoke; her voice low and unreadable.

"What did you mean?"

"It was an accident." Catherine murmured, flashing back to that night on the kitchen floor, how she had tried to explain it to her mother.

"An accident?" Sara asked, casting a glance at her.

"I was very young, and I made a mistake." Catherine explained, walking over to her.

"So, it's true?" Sara asked, turning to face her fully. Catherine pursed her lips and nodded slowly. Sara seemed to struggle to breath for a moment as this information sank in.

"Sara, I wanted to tell you; I nearly did..."

"Yeah, but you didn't ... you didn't tell me, Catherine!" Sara stuttered, getting choked up. Cath reached out to her instinctively but Sara pulled away violently. She pushed herself off the railing and ran to the door.

"Sara, please just..." Cath begged but it was too late. Sara was gone. "Sara!" Catherine called helplessly after her daughter, her voice cracked with tears desperate to fall.


	13. Don't cry for me

**Sorry for the long wait guys, hope you enjoy**

**x x x x **

_September 16 1973_

Catherine couldn't say how long she sat there in the darkness, stunned. The baby squirmed in her arms but she barely noticed. Her whole body ached; numb pain throbbing in every muscle. She was so lost in her own mind that she never heard the front door open. The kitchen light flicked on, and the baby emitted a soft whimper at the invasion of light to her delicate eyes. Deathly silence filled the room.

Slowly, dazed, Catherine looked up. Her mother stood rooted to the spot, her eyes dragging across the room, finally settling in the tiny little creature Catherine was holding. Catherine opened her mouth to explain, but there was only one thing she could think of to say.

"I'm sorry."

X x x

Lily walked stiffly into the room, like she was being pulled against her will by some unforeseen force. She crouched down, reaching out a trembling hand but stopping short of touching the baby.

"I'm sorry." Catherine repeated, tears filling her eyes. "It was an accident." Lily opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.

Cheerful chattering filled the deathly silence as Nancy bounded through the door, holding onto her father's hand. They were engrossed in conversation but all that stopped suddenly when they reached the kitchen.

"What the hell..?" Martin asked, barely above a whisper. In answer to his question, the baby cried. It was a weak, pitiful cry, but a cry none the less. Nancy peered around her father, curious as to the catastrophe that had occurred in her absence.

"Get her out of here." Lily ordered to her husband, carefully lifting to baby out of Catherine's arms. "And get me some towels."

"But I wanna see."

Martin staggered backwards, dragging a whining Nancy with him, and disappeared into the hall. Lily got a clean cloth and carefully wiped the baby down. Catherine had cut the umbilical cord, but that was about it, so Lily began checking the child over. Martin returned, supplies in hand, with the same dumbstruck expression plastered on his face. Lily handed him the baby in exchange for the towels and began tending to Catherine. The blonde, oblivious to her mother's actions, whimpered and held her arms out for her baby. Martin practically dropped the girl into his step-daughter's arms, where she curled back up into a tiny ball, now wrapped contentedly in a towel. He retrieved a tumbler and poured himself a stiff drink while Lily attended to her daughter. Catherine couldn't feel a thing right now except for the delicate heartbeat against her own.

"Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?" Martin demanded at last, slamming his glass down and pouring himself another drink.

"Who is he?" Lily asked, ignoring her husband. Catherine looked up, frowning. "The father Catherine, who is he?" She repeated, her voice low.

"Jack." Cath mumbled softly at last.

"Jack who?"

"I never got his surname."

"Oh great, this is great!" Martin snapped. "When did this happen?"

"Valentine's day." Catherine answered, keeping her eyes trained on her new daughter if only to avoid seeing the disappointment in her parents' eyes.

"That party." Lily said, remembering. Cath nodded, shame filling her as it had that night when she was caught sneaking back in.

"You idiot!" Martin yelled. "You stupid little girl!" Tears welled up in her eyes but she refused to look at him.

"Martin!" Lily chastised. She grabbed his arm and yanked him into the next room, where Catherine assumed they thought she couldn't hear them shouting about her. She sobbed quietly, trying desperately to blink away her tears and failing miserably. One landed on her baby's nose and she whimpered softly. Catherine smiled at the sound; she sounded more like a puppy than a baby.

A tiny hand grasped helplessly at Catherine's shirt, her mouth opening and closing. Cath realised what she wanted, but she didn't know what to do. Her parents were still arguing in the other room, so she unbuttoned her shirt, lifting the baby up slightly. Thankfully she didn't have to do anything, the little girl found what she wanted all by herself. Catherine gasped at the strange sensation it caused. It felt so strange. Strange, but ... good strange.

The sound of angry words being hurled around from the next room faded to a distant haze as Catherine nursed her baby, staring down into those gorgeous brown eyes.

Her father's eyes.

She was so tiny; Catherine was terrified that if she so much as moved too suddenly she would break her. So she sat perfectly still, letting her baby feed. _Her baby_. It felt so weird calling her that, but that's what she was. Up until now it had been nothing but an inconvenience, a constant worry. But now, curled up in Catherine's arms, tiny fingers clutching desperately at the air, she was a beautiful, baby girl. And staring into those eyes, everything suddenly seemed so much easier.

Lost in her own little world, Catherine didn't notice soft footsteps approach until Nancy crawled up to her side.

"Is she yours?" She asked, peering down at the baby like it was some strange new toy.

"Yes." Catherine answered simply.

"What's she called?" Catherine hadn't thought about that recently and she tried to think of the list of potential names she had made but only one thing flashed through her head:

_Bella ragazza _

"Bella." She answered. The baby hiccupped in response.

X x x

The baby remained wrapped up in Catherine's arms, sniffling quietly as she nuzzled Catherine's chest, as Martin and Lily paced in front of her.

"We can't keep it here."

"Well what do you want me to do Martin? It's a baby, I can't just get rid of it."

"She!" Cath heard Nancy jump in defensively. "She's not an 'it'. She's a she."

"You know, do what you fucking want, Lil!" Martin yelled, ignoring his daughter. He slammed his fourth or fifth drink down and grabbed his jacket. "Keep the fucking thing if you want." Despite Lily's protests, he stormed out, letting the door slam behind him.

Bella cried and Catherine shushed her, scowling at the place her step-father had previously been standing. The teenager held her closer, letting her heartbeat sooth the child. Distantly she heard her mother talking to someone, on the phone she assumed, and could sense Nancy flitting around her but took no notice of these things.

She was too busy trying to decide whose lips Bella had got.

X x x

When there was a loud knock at the door Catherine's immediate, panicked thought was that it was the paramedics.

But it wasn't.

When Lily answered and the guest stepped out of the shadows, Cath's heart sank.

Looming over her, tall and threatening, stood Sam Braun. There was no anger in his blue eyes, just pure and undisguised shame.

"What have you done, Muggs?"

X x x

Catherine remembered very little of what happened after that. She recalled giving Sam Jack's address, and him and her mother having a little conference in the lounge, with Nancy hovering nearby. But the main thing she remembered, the thing she would never forget, was the way it felt having her baby ripped from her arms.

Sam walked into the kitchen and stooped down. His strong hands prised the tiny little girl free from Catherine's desperate grasp, and he walked away.

Catherine wailed, and Bella cried, strong and fierce this time, but it didn't change anything. Lily held Catherine down by the shoulders as she tried unsuccessfully to crawl to her feet.

"NO, don't take my baby!" She wept, clawing frantically at the air. Tears stung her eyes and clouded her vision, but she saw clearly enough what was happening. Her baby, her fragile little girl, was being taken away from her.

And she never even got to kiss her goodbye.


	14. You can't see that I'm crying

**Apologies for the short chapter again. Happy St Patrick's Day! **

**x x x x**

"I thought you quit." She heard the detective's rough voice behind her and felt him lean against the railing but didn't meet his eyes.

"I needed it." She answered simply, taking another drag of her illicit cigarette.

"Yeah, I uh. I heard what happened."

"Really?" Cath asked, not in the least bit surprised. She was sure it was all over the lab by now.

"Nicky." Brass explained anyway. Cath continued to stare out over the view of Las Vegas. She started to raise the cigarette to her lips but Brass took it from her and stomped it out beneath his foot. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What can I do? She doesn't want to talk to me." She sighed, folding her arms on the cold railings and resting her head on them desolately.

"Come on Cath, she just found out that _you're her mother_. She probably doesn't know what to think right now." Jim pointed out. "Go talk to her; let her be mad, let her get upset. Just, be there for her." Catherine thought about his words for a moment before emitting a pathetic sigh.

"I don't even know where she is. She ran off." She moaned sadly. Jim smiled and pointed down to the parking lot. More specifically, to a car with a certain brunette stretched out on the roof, staring at the stars. Catherine couldn't help the soft chuckle that escaped her lips, shaking her head. She smiled weakly at Jim and turned to leave.

"Go be a mother Cath; it's what you do best." He called after her.

X x x

Catherine approached the car slowly, not wanting to startle her, but again Sara seemed to sense she was there before she saw her.

"This is a joke right?" The brunette asked, not tearing her gaze from the night sky.

"It's not a joke Sara." Catherine answered softly. Sara sat up, looking down at Cath with a perplexed expression.

"You can't be...you can't..."

"I am." Cath walked over to her carefully.

"How can you...how did ...how..?"

Cath answered with the only word that she could manage to say. "Jack."

"My brother?" Sara frowned, thrown. Cath shook her head slowly.

"You're father."

X x x

"Say something."

"Like what?"

"Anything." Catherine shrugged. Sara had moved from the roof to the bonnet and eventually Catherine had had the guts to climb up next to her, ensuring she kept enough distance not to crowd Sara. The brunette was staring into space and had not spoken a word in several minutes. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking ... I need a drink." Sara sighed.

"Okay." Cath said. "We could do that."

"I meant alone." Sara's voice was raw with emotion, her composure gradually falling down. Cath looked away; sad, but not that shocked by Sara's reaction. However, Sara made no effort to move so Catherine remained where she was too.

It was starting to rain.

She didn't know what made her do it, but Cath reached out a trembling hand and brushed Sara's hair aside, tenderly stroking the faded mark on her neck. Last time it rained in Las Vegas her daughter was raped. Sara pulled away and Catherine dropped her hand sadly.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. She looked up, tears glistening in her eyes. "Sara, you've opened up to me a lot in the last few weeks. I don't want to lose that." She pleaded. "I know that it's not going to be easy, but we don't have to start from scratch again..." before she could continue Sara had hopped off the car and was walking away. Cath followed suit and jogged to catch her up. "Why don't you come back to mine. I can explain some more." She offered.

"No, it's okay." Sara mumbled, looking up at the rain.

"There are things I can show you, that might help..." Cath tried again but Sara's mind was made up.

"No, I just need to be alone." The brunette said, ambling off, dazed, into the rain.

X x x

The rain was coming down hard now.

Catherine was vaguely aware of a coat being draped around her shoulders. She must be drenched by now, but she hadn't noticed. To be honest she had no idea how long she had been sitting out here on the sidewalk.

Jim sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"She hates me." She cried, tears mingling with the rain as they streamed down her face. Brass didn't say anything, he just wrapped her in a tight hug; holding her together as heart wrenching sobs choked their way from her frail body.


	15. Silent witness

_January 17__th__ 1974_

It was the same as always. Same box, same minimal possessions, same faded little photograph lying on top.

Catherine sighed as she picked it up, stroking the surface gently. She couldn't help but feeling so much older than she had when this photo was taken, even though it was only a matter of months ago.

She had taken to getting these out more and more recently. It was like a compulsion; she wanted to know, needed to know about her little girl.

"Cathy, I ..." Her mother stopped in the doorway, her eyes glancing over the sight. "Oh God." She sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought we talked about this."

"I can't help it." Catherine said softly.

"This has got to stop, Catherine." Lily snapped, marching over to her daughter. "She's gone. She's not coming back."

"You don't know that." Cath insisted, tears springing to her eyes against her will.

"Yes I do. Now look, you need to stop this. You know what Martin will say if he finds all this."

"I don't give a fuck what Martin thinks!" Catherine shouted, rage masking the shock of her own actions. She had never spoken to her mother like that before. Lily looked like Catherine had just slapped her.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that!"

"Or what?" Cath retorted. "What are you going to do? Ground me? You've already taken away my baby!"

"It's not your baby Catherine!"

"She'll always be mine!" Catherine yelled, the tears finally starting to fall. "I'm going to find her and I'll be a proper mom, not like you!"

"That's it!" Lily snapped, grabbing the box out of Catherine's hands. Cath wailed, reaching up for it but it was too late. Before her fingertips could graze the wood, Lily had hurled it at the wall. The thin wood splintered with a horrific crash and the few items scattered. Catherine whirled on her mother, angry tears staining her cheeks.

"I hate you!" She yelled. "I hate you and I hate Martin! The only person I want is Bella!" The simple mention of the child's name seemed to push Lily over the edge and she grabbed the photograph from Catherine's clutches and, to the strawberry-blonde's utmost horror, ripped it up. Catherine sobbed as little pieces of her heart and soul fell, torn, onto her lap.

"I do not want to hear that baby mentioned in this house again!" Lily roared as she tore up the photograph. "As far as we are concerned, it never happened!" With that, she turned and walked out. Catherine launched herself off the bed and slammed the door behind her, falling against it in angry, desperate sobs. She crawled across the floor to where her most treasured possessions lay scattered amongst a wooden wreck.

She picked up the flower, cradling it carefully in her trembling hands. With a frustrated cry and picked up a piece of the broken box and hurled it at the door. She picked up something else and threw that too.

Anything within her reach, she grabbed. Ornaments, books, cassettes. Angry yells punctuated the smashes that filled her room.

With a final cry, she slid down the wall, tears wracking her small frame. There she sat, amongst her trashed room, and she didn't care. She didn't care about any of it anymore. There was only one thing that she cared about, and she wasn't even allowed to mention her name anymore.

Slowly, she looked up. Straight ahead, pinned to her dresser like a sign, was that little piece of paper she had forgotten all about. Stalking through the mess she had created obliviously, she grabbed the note off her desk and walked to the window.

Climbing onto the window sill, she flashed back to the last time she had done this. The Valentine's Day party.

The night Bella was conceived.

Shaking the thought off, she launched herself onto the tree and dropped to the ground. And just like that night, she disappeared into the night.

X x x

Lily barely made it downstairs before the tears came. What had she done? She was banning her daughter from mentioning her own child?

She hated herself for doing this, but she knew that it was the only way Catherine was ever going to move on with her life. She had to do it for Catherine's sake.

If Martin found that box he'd do more than smash it. He'd set fire to the thing.

X x x

Catherine ran the entire way to the phone booth. It was dark, but she still looked around her before slipping inside.

She pulled the little piece of paper out of her pocket and read the number again, even though she already knew it off by heart. She dropped a few coins into the machine, her heart pounding louder with every clink they made as they hit the bottom.

With trembling fingers she dialled the numbers and held her breath as the dialling echoed around the small space.

"Hello, Penny Halliwell speaking." The voice was more stern than she had anticipated; strong and well educated. Catherine faltered for a moment, the phone clutched to her ear. "Hello?" The voice repeated.

"Hi." Catherine managed to stutter out eventually.

"Yes?" The woman pressed when she didn't speak again.

"I'm looking for Jack." Catherine managed to say, her voice almost catching her throat. When the older woman spoke again Cath could almost hear her stiffen.

"He's not here. Who can I ask is speaking?" She asked in a clipped tone.

"Catherine Flynn." Cath answered softly, beginning to think that this whole idea had been a mistake. There was a long silence where you could practically hear her mind placing the name.

"It's about the baby." The woman said at last. Catherine nodded, then remembered that Penny couldn't see her so mumbled her affirmative. She heard a sign down the phone. "Listen love, I'm sorry." She started, and Catherine's heart sank. "Jack's family moved away."

"Away?" Catherine asked, her voice hitching.

"Back home. Italy."

"Oh." Catherine mumbled, feeling every last hope that she had been holding onto slip out of her grasp.

"You know, maybe it's for the best." The older woman said sympathetically, but they both knew that she was lying.

"Thanks anyway." Catherine mumbled, hanging up the phone. She was glad that no one could see her as she slid to the ground, tears streaking down her face.

X x x

Catherine didn't even bother sneaking back in. She knew that her mother wouldn't say anything to her. After all, it's not like she could disappoint the family any more than she already had.

She skulked upstairs, dragging her feet tiredly behind her.

For a moment the sight of her room surprised her, until her actions came back to her and she sighed, her eyes automatically seeking out the shattered box.

To her surprise, it was gone. Her eyes scanned the room hurriedly.

And there, sat inoffensively on her bed, was a small, wooden box. She walked over cautiously, searching for any sign of repair but there was none; this was a new box.

And inside, just like before, were her few precious items.

Lying on top, reconstructed with copious amounts of cellophane, was her photograph.

X x x

She poked her head into the room next door and crept inside. Nancy was asleep, curled on her side with one hand clutching the top of the blanket. Catherine sat on the edge of her bed, reaching out a hand to stroke her hair tenderly. She bent down and kissed her peaceful face.

"Thank you."


	16. A word to the wise aint necessary

**Sorry for the delay. This is not my best writing and I know this chapter jumps about a bit but thats kida the effect I was going for. Hope you enjoy; leave a review, let me know what you think x**

**x x x x**

Catherine sloped down the hallway, ignoring the lingering looks from the many lab rats ambling about. She pretended that she didn't see the sympathetic glances, in the same way that she pretended she didn't notice the way everyone was keeping at a safe distance.

She shuffled into the locker room, hoping beyond hope that she might catch a glimpse of Sara, but alas the brunette was nowhere to be seen. Cath sighed heavily and swung her locker open. She felt, rather than saw Grissom come in, pause in the doorway and then stomp out without a word. Sara had been avoiding her all week and it seemed to mood was spreading.

She landed ungracefully on the bench, dropping her head into her hands despondently.

"Hey, you alright?" A soft Texan voice infiltrated her thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said weakly, sitting up.

"She'll come around you know; you've just got to give her some time." Nick assured her, placing a strong hand on her shoulder.

"You think?" She asked, unconvinced.

"Yeah. You know, this is a big thing to deal with." He said, sitting down next to her and patting her knee in an offer of comfort. "She'll come to terms with it in time."

"I know. I just..." She trailed off, shaking her head in an effort to clear the jumbled thoughts into some sort of order. "I just wish she would at least talk to me." Nick wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting her rest her head against him. "I miss her." Nick laughed softly, pulling her tighter.

"Maybe you should tell her that."

X x x

"Oi!" Catherine jumped, nearly spilling her coffee. Nancy ambled into the kitchen and sat down opposite her. "What's going on with you?" She asked, folding her arms on the table and fixing her sister with an inquisitive look. Catherine considered playing dumb, but decided to save herself the trouble and come clean.

"Bella." She answered simply. Nancy raised an eyebrow.

"What about her?"

"She's back."

"What?" Nancy practically yelled, making Catherine jump for the second time. "Where?" She asked, calmer this time.

"I've been working with her for five years." There was a long moment as Nancy's mind worked through this.

"Sara?" She guessed at last. Catherine closed her eyes silently, all the answer her sister needed. "Wow." She whistled. "Does she know?"

"Yeah." Cath sighed.

"And?"

"She hates me."

"Come on Cath, I'm sure she doesn't ..."

"She hasn't spoken to me since she found out."

"Maybe she's just freaked out?" Nancy offered, but Catherine did not look convinced. She dropped her head onto the table with a sad groan.

"She hates me." She repeated sadly.

They remained in silence for a while; Catherine moping in her self-inflicted state of depression and Nancy trying to get her head around this revelation.

"So, when do I get to meet her?" She asked at last.

"What?" Cath asked, propping her head up on her hand.

"Well, she is my niece. So, when are you going to introduce me?"

"Nance, she's not talking to me."

"She will, eventually." The blonde tried to reassure her sister but it didn't work. "Does mom know?" Catherine shook her head, running a hand through her hair tiredly.

"Does mom know what?" A cool voice startled them both. Slowly, Catherine dragged her eyes to the door. "Well?" Lily asked, quirking an eyebrow.

X x x

"I'd better go." Nancy stuttered, stumbling her way out of the door. Catherine's eyes pleaded with her to stay but she merely offered a sympathetic smile and left.

In the meantime Lily had made herself comfortable at the table and was nursing a cup of coffee, waiting for an explanation.

Catherine sat back down slowly, keeping her eyes trained on the table.

"Well?" Lily asked again. "What do you two know that I don't?"

"It's nothing." Cath mumbled.

"It's something that you don't want to tell me." She pressed. Catherine chanced a glance up, glimpsing her mother's sober expression, and it was all it took for her to crack.

"I found Bella."

She could practically feel the atmosphere change as her mother placed the name and realisation finally dawned.

"Oh." Was all that she could say. "And, is she..."

"She won't talk to me."

"Well, maybe that's for the best." Lily said softly. Catherine looked up, her eyes suddenly alive.

"For the best?" She parroted. "Like it was the best for me to give her up."

"Now come on Catherine, you know what I meant." Lily tried to smooth the situation over but before she knew it, it was 1974 all over again.

"Yeah, I know what you meant." Catherine spat, standing up and starting to pace.

"Catherine..." Lily tried again.

"I have spent thirty one years looking for that girl, I'm not about to let her go now!"

"I know, all I meant was..."

"Forget it!" Catherine snapped, grabbing her bag off the side. "I know damn well what you meant."

"Catherine, where are you going?" Lily called after her.

"I'm going to work." She answered, slamming the door behind her. Lily sighed.

Yeah, 1974 all over again.

X x x

Today, like yesterday, Catherine stalked the hallways hoping to spot her daughter in the busy labs. Sara was still doing her best to avoid the blonde, but since her frank chat with her mother Catherine had determined not to give up yet. Grissom was still not talking to her either, but she didn't really care about that at the moment. He could wait.

"Greg, have you seen Sara?" She asked, poking her head into the lab where he was buried up to his eyes in fibre tapings.

"No." He mumbled, not lifting his nose out of the microscope. She turned to leave but his voice called her back. She turned, raising an eyebrow. "I know Sara pretty well; you just need to give her some space. When she's ready, she'll come to you."

"Thanks, but I can manage." She said, turning once again to leave.

"If you push too far you'll push her away." He hollered after her retreating form.

X x x

"Hey Doc." She smiled, poking her head into the morgue.

"Lady Catherine." Al greeted. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" She shuffled in nervously, pursing her lips.

"Have you seen Sara?"

"No, I haven't seen your elusive daughter today." He answered, not looking up. She rolled her eyes.

"Wow, grapevine made it all the way down here too." She joked dryly. Al put his clipboard down and devoted his entire attention to her.

"Catherine, Sara's going through a lot at the moment..."

"I know, it's a lot to deal with." Cath chanted. "So everyone keeps telling me. I just want to talk to her Al." She explained, her voice cracking.

"She'll talk when she's ready." He promised. "In the mean time, just let her know that you're there for her whenever she's ready to talk to you, then leave her be." Cath sighed heavily.

"Easier said than done. I need to find her first."

"Yeah, well, that I can't help you with." She turned to leave but stopped.

"Hey Doc?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what's bugging Grissom?"

"As far as I know: you."

"I thought as much." She huffed.

X x x

"Catherine." She stopped in the hallway outside the trace lab and cursed whatever deity had it in for her today. Plastering a false smile on her face, she spun on her heel.

"Yes Conrad?" She asked, as politely as her mood could manage.

"I heard about you and Sidle." He began, failing to disguise the sneer behind his words. "I hope that this isn't going to be a problem."

"Why would it be?" She asked defensively.

"I just don't want any more scraps in the corridor." He smirked. "If it is going to be an issue, I'm sure I can find a spot for you on days."

"No thank you." She started to walk away, sensing where this was going.

"I'm just saying, we can re-arrange..."

"It's taken me thirty years to find her Ecklie; not even you can take her away from me now." She stated coolly, walking away.

X x x

"I still can't believe it." Mandy sighed.

"I know. According to Conrad she even turned down the offer of moving to days so she could stay with Sara" Hodges stated knowingly. "Conrad said she's been looking for her for thirty years." He continued, earning him little more than a disregarding look from the rest of the rats at his name-dropping efforts.

"Poor Catherine." Mandy continued, shaking her head softly.

"Poor Sara." Wendy added. "One day everything was normal and all of a sudden she finds out that the woman she's been working with for five years is her mother."

"I heard that she didn't even know she was adopted." Henry said, leaning conspiratorially over the coffee pot.

"You know days' are taking bets that Sam Braun covered it up." Archie added, wiggling his eyebrows. Heels approaching the door silenced their hushed conversation and by the time Catherine reached the break room, they were sitting in perfect, suspicious silence. She paused in the threshold, glancing round each of their guilty faces in turn.

"Don't stop on my account." She said at last, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring herself a cup before stalking back out.

Alone, the rats released a breath unanimously.

"Close one." Hodges said with and exaggerated sigh of relief, earning him a smack round the head from Wendy.

X x x

"Hey," she jumped, startled out of her thoughts. "You need some help with that?"

"Help with what?" She frowned, glancing around.

"That weight on your shoulders." Warrick continued in his smooth voice. She chuckled dryly, shaking her head. A thought struck her.

"You were working with Sara tonight, right?" She asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I left her finishing up at the station."

"How is she?" Her attempts to sound blasé fell flat.

"She's doing okay." He nodded, sitting down next to the blonde. "Question is; how are you doing?" Cath laughed softly.

"Hmm, I've been better." He nodded, waiting for her to elaborate. "I just wish that she would talk to me."

"Well if she doesn't come to you, why don't you go to her?" He suggested. She blinked up at him through confused eyes.

"You know, you're the first person today who's said that." She informed him. "Everyone else said I should give her space." Warrick laughed.

"Now we both know that if you leave her to it she'll never come out of her shell." He pointed out. Cath hummed in agreement.

"Grissom's not helping either." She muttered.

"No, I heard that he's pretty ticked at you."

"Yeah but I don't know why." She groaned, running a stressed hand through her hair.

"You know Grissom, he's had a thing for her as long as they've known each other." He pointed out. "He's just pissed because you've stolen his girl away."

"My girl." She corrected, eliciting a smile from the dark-skinned man. "I want to talk to her but I don't want to scare her away."

"Just tell her the truth." He said, standing up. "After that, it's her call." He kissed her head gently and wandered slowly to the door, before turning to offer a final piece of advice. "Be a mother Cath; talk to her."

X x x

Brass held up a hand, shielding his face from the early morning sunshine. As he turned to find his car, he glimpsed something out of the corner of his eye.

"Catching some rays?" He asked casually, ambling over. Sara lifted her arm off her eyes and smiled at him.

"I'm thinking." She explained.

"Room on there for two to think?" He asked. She shuffled to the right slightly and the aging detective hauled himself onto the car bonnet to join her. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. "Have you spoken to Catherine today?" He asked at last.

"No." She mumbled. "Have you?"

"No. I've heard she's been asking after you though." He studied her young face for some sort of reaction but she didn't flinch.

"It's going to rain today." Sara stated randomly at last. Jim sighed and patted her leg softly, getting her attention.

"Sara, you have to talk to her sometime." Again, she did not respond. "Look, just hear her out. Find out what she has to say. Then make up your mind." He suggested. "What's the worst that could happen? You find out a bit more about your life." He hopped off the car. "You know, the truth doesn't always have to hurt." He said, leaving her alone to think in the dawn sunlight.


	17. Mother's Prayer

_November 23 1973_

Catherine practically flew downstairs, landing ungracefully in front of the door. She scrambled through the letters, glancing at each envelope in turn until her hands stilled over one in particular. But it was not what she had been waiting for. It was not a reply from Jack. She picked it up, running a finger over her own delicate handwriting. Stamped across it in angry red ink where the words 'Return to sender'. Just like the others.

X x x

Catherine stared at the letter forlornly. On her desk lay four others just the same. And inside each one were the same words.

_Please let me see her_

_I don't want to cause any more trouble_

_I just want my daughter_

Desperate pleas that had fallen on deaf ears.

She began to screw it up but stopped, letting it fall to the desk and slowly unfurl itself. Anger began to creep in alongside sadness. What right did he, did anyone, have to keep her child from her?

Abandoning the letters, she grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair.

If he wouldn't write to her, he could answer her to her face.

X x x

The semi-detached house was hardly anything special. The white fence was rotted and cracked in a few places and there were weeds where flowers once grew. The wooden window frames were flaking and there was a significant dent in one upstairs window sill. Catherine smiled at the thought of Jack scrambling out of it, dropping silently from the ledge onto the grass. In the back of her mind she wondered whether he had done that on the night of the Valentine's Day party, like she had.

The garage was open and empty, apart from a few boxes gathering damp in the back corner.

She took a deep breath, pacing anxiously at the bottom of the garden path. She could walk away, she told herself. Walk away and forget that she had even thought of coming down here. But then the sound of that pathetic little cry resounded in her ears and she remembered why she was doing this. She pushed the stiff gate open with a harsh creak.

Her legs shook as she walked slowly up the garden path. She wiped her palms on her dress. Her hand twitched nervously as she raised it to the door, pausing just a moment before she closed her eyes and knocked.

It suddenly struck her how early it was and she silently prayed that they weren't still in bed.

She heard it echo through the house, but other than that all was silent. She knocked again. No sounds. Crucially, no crying. Stepping backwards, she lifted her head and looked up to the windows. They all looked the same.

Empty.

"Excuse me." A voice to her left made her jump out of her skin. A middle-aged woman in a bathrobe was hovering on the other side of the fence. "Are you looking for the Sidle family?" Catherine didn't know Jack's surname but assumed that was right so she nodded.

"Do you know if they're in?" She asked, stepping closer to the woman. The woman's kindly face softened sympathetically, almost as if she knew how much this had meant to Catherine.

"I'm sorry; they moved a couple of weeks ago." She said softly.

"Oh." Catherine mumbled, crushed. "Um, do you know where?" She asked; optimism creeping back into her voice.

"No, I'm sorry." The woman shook her head. Catherine bit back tears, feeling every ounce of hope escape her.

"Oh. Okay. Thank you anyway." She turned to walk away, her heart broken. She got barely a few steps down the road when the same voice called her back.

"Excuse me Miss." She called, holding her gown together as she dashed down the garden path. Catherine waited for her to catch up, shuffling her feet nervously. "This is the number of her mother. She might know where they moved to." She said, carefully folding a piece of paper into Cath's hand.

X x x

She had been staring at the number for a good two hours but had not yet managed to make that call. She didn't know why it was so hard. Just pick up the phone, dial, and ask where they had moved to.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the phone.

The dial tone matched the pounding of her heart. She couldn't remember their surname. Her mouth was dry.

There was a click and a female voice began to speak, but all Catherine could hear was the blood rushing through her ears. She tried to speak but nothing came out.

"Hello?" The voice tried again. Catherine slammed the phone down, taking deep calming breaths. She couldn't do it.

Angry tears fell down her face. Her last chance and she couldn't do it.

X x x

"Everybody's doing it." Deborah said, running her fingers through the grass as she lay on her back, staring at the sky. Donna leant up on her elbow.

"Do you think it hurts?"

"Maybe a bit, but you'd get used to it." Debs shrugged. Catherine lay nearby, listening but not participating.

"I heard that you can't get pregnant if it's your first time." Karen said knowingly. That was it. Catherine couldn't take anymore of this.

"My God, you are so stupid." She chuckled dryly, shaking her head. Three pairs of eyes turned on her as she launched into her attack. "You have no idea what it's like. You think it's all romantic and that it'll make your world spin and you know what? It doesn't." She knelt up, brushing the grass off herself.

"How would you know?" Karen asked, sitting up.

"Because I'm not stupid." Cath spat.

"She doesn't know anything." Debs declared at last.

"You know what, go to hell." Catherine snapped, starting to stand up. To her utmost surprise, Karen shoved her over. She blinked taken by surprise.

"Fantasist." The girl sneered as the three of them started to leave. Riled, Catherine launched herself at Karen's legs, hauling the slender girl to the ground.

Donna watched on, horrified, as Debs tried in vain to pull Catherine off Karen, but she was too pissed off to stop now. They could call her any name under the sun, but they would not call her a liar.

"Hey, hey!" A pair of strong male hands gripped her arms, lifting her clean off the ground. Catherine groaned inwardly. Mr Peterson. "What is going on here?"

"She attacked me!" Karen cried, clinging dramatically onto Donna for support.

"She called me a liar!" Catherine yelled back. Mr Peterson sighed.

"Flynn, go wait outside Mr James' office." He ordered. "Now!"

She sloped off despondently. Outside the principal's office. Which meant she would at some point get called into the principal's office. Then her parents would be called and then she would be suspended, or kicked out or something. And grounded.

Great.

X x x

And sure enough, it was not long before Lily and Martin came trudging down the hallway as she sat swinging her legs nervously.

They sent her nothing more than a disapproving look as they headed through the door to that damn office.

The journey home was filled with a suffocating silence. Lily stared out of the window and Martin focused on the road, his knuckles turning so white that Cath thought he was going to break the steering wheel.

She kind of hoped that this freezing out was her punishment, but no such luck.

As soon as they got through the door Lily dived into her rant.

"Fighting? Catherine what has gotten into you?" She whirled, fixing her daughter with the sternest look she could muster.

"They called me a liar!" She tried to defend herself.

"I don't care. You do not beat people up! And your own friends!"

"They're not my friends!" She retorted spitefully.

"Well no, not anymore." Lily shook her head. "Catherine; sneaking out, high school parties, drinking, failing grades. Now this?" Cath noted how she missed out quite a big one but didn't bring it up. "What's next? I just don't know what to do with you anymore."

"I do!" Martin joined in. Unlike her mother's relatively subdued anger, he was furious and made no attempt to hide it. "What the hell is wrong with you? Can't you see what you're doing to this family?" He snapped. "Isn't it bad enough that we have to move to deal with your little mistake? Now you can't even behave yourself for a few weeks?" He bent down, close to her face. "You know, years ago you would have been sent away for this kind of behaviour."

"Yeah? Well maybe you should have sent me away? God knows, you did a good enough job with my baby!" His hand was so quick she didn't even see it before it collided with the side of her face. She stood there, her cheek burning, rooted to the spot.

"You do not mention that in this house again!" He hissed, his voice seething. Catherine wanted to scream. To cry. Anything. But she couldn't. And then came the final blow. That disappointed 'I can't even look at you' voice from her mother.

"Go to your room Catherine."

And for once, she did as she was told.

X x x

"_What do you want me to do Martin? She's my daughter!" _

"_She's tearing the family apart Lil! If she carries on like this..."_

"_What? You'll throw her out?"_

She could hear them fighting; she could always hear them fighting. Usually about her.

"_She needs to learn! You need to talk to her!"_

"_About what? Drugs? Sex? Because in case you hadn't noticed she figured that out all on her own!"_

"_Just deal with her Lil! I can't take this anymore!"_

She heard the front door slam. He would be back. 3am and pissed probably.

Trying to ignore it, she walked past the desk, briefly glancing the little piece of paper she had pinned to it, and sat on her bed.

She pulled out the box and began her increasingly frequent routine.

One by one she took out each little item and looked at it carefully. She had put the letters in here too.

And one at a time she would slide them carefully out of the envelope and read them, over and over, until her own prayers were burned into her memory.


	18. Pandora's box

Catherine started awake. She looked around, her eyes blurry from sleep. The items she had been looking at were splayed across her lap haphazardly. She was attempting to untangle the blanket from around her legs when she heard the sound that had awoken her again: knocking.

Finally freeing herself from her blanket cocoon, she placed the items back in the wooden chest and hauled herself to her feet, tugging her robe tighter around herself as she went. Keeping the chain latched, she cautiously opened the door and peered through the gap.

And there, cold and shaking in the rain, stood her little girl.

"Sara?" She gasped, unlatching the chain and swinging the door wide open. Sara didn't speak; she just stood there staring at Catherine with wide, nervous eyes. Cath gripped her drenched arm and tugged her inside, out of the pouring rain. "God, look at you. You're soaked." She said, giving her a once over. Her jeans were stuck to her long, slim legs and her thin shirt was practically see-through.

"I want to talk." Sara mumbled as if Catherine hadn't even spoken. "I want to know the truth." Her voice was trembling with the cold but her gaze was unwavering. Catherine looked her up and down again.

"Okay." She said at last. "But let's get you dried off first." She bargained. Sara looked down at herself, as if noticing for the first time the cold water seeping into her skin. She nodded numbly, letting Catherine lead her into the lounge. "God, you're freezing." Cath mumbled, gripping Sara's hand tighter as if she could pass some of her own body heat to her through osmosis. She deposited Sara on the couch and disappeared to the laundry room, returned a moment later with a warm, clean towel, which she draped around Sara. The brunette hugged it tightly around herself gratefully, trembling violently with the cold. Catherine turned on her electric fire and disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving Sara to warm up.

When she returned a few minutes later, a bowl of steaming hot soup in her hands, Sara's shaking had subsided a little but she still looked deathly pale, exenterated by the dark, damp curls clinging to her face. Cath carefully placed the bowl in her hands, making sure she had it steady before letting go. Sara stared at it dumbly for a moment before gingerly picking up the spoon. Cath sat opposite her on the coffee table, watching the colour return slowly to her cheeks. If Sara noticed her staring she didn't call her on it; too busy concentrating on not spilling her soup.

When she finished eating Catherine took the bowl from her, placing it on the table. She sat forward; fixing Sara was an intense gaze.

"What do you want to know?"

X x x

"Sara, think back to when you were 15. Could you have raised a child?"

"No." Sara whispered.

"I wanted to." Cath promised. "I would have, but..."

"It's okay. You don't have to explain, I understand." Sara said.

"No. You don't." Cath insisted. "Sara, when I found out I was pregnant I was scared. I didn't tell anyone, not even my best friend." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. "She stopped talking to me because she knew I was hiding something. I have never felt more alone in my life. I couldn't talk to my friends, I certainly couldn't tell my mother."

"Did you tell Jack?" Sara asked, stumbling over his name.

"I couldn't find him. And when I eventually did find him, I bottled it." Cath answered. "I was in this alone. And every day I prayed that I would wake up and it would all be gone. I spent months wishing you didn't exist."

"Thanks." Sara mumbled with a dry laugh.

"But," Catherine emphasised, meeting Sara's gaze. "When I met you all that changed. Sara, the minute I laid eyes on you I loved you more than the world." She promised. Sara searched her eyes for a moment before looked away.

"Then why did you give me up?" She asked sadly. Catherine sighed and placed a hand over Sara's. She had moved to sit next to her on the couch.

"I didn't." She answered honestly. "The night you were born, I was alone in the house. It was just you and me." She had flicked her eyes back up and was listening intently, surprised by this revelation. "When my mother and stepfather got home, they flipped. I remember mom walking in the kitchen, and I was just sat there on the floor, with you in my arms."

"Wow." Sara shook her head. "One way to rebel."

"Tell me about it." Cath chuckled. "Martin hit the roof. He and mom had a blazing row and he stormed out. You ... you started crying. I didn't know what else to do so I fed you." She swallowed, past feelings flooding her memories. "After Martin left, mom called Sam. And he took you away."

"Away?" Sara frowned.

"To Jack's. And I never saw you again."

"So, they just took me..."

"Just like that." Cath nodded sadly. "Do you know what it's like to have your own child snatched from your arms like that?" She asked rhetorically. "I never got over that night, Sara."

X x x

They were quiet for a long while, giving Sara a chance to absorb the truth about her dramatic birth.

"Did Jack ever contact you again?" She asked at last, her voice weak. Catherine shook her head.

"I tried to contact him. I sent him letters; I even went round to his house. But it was too late, you're family had already moved."

"So, that was it?"

"That was it. I'd lost you." Cath murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Sara's face tenderly.

"Okay." The brunette mumbled at last. "Thanks." She stood up stiffly and headed to the door. Catherine was behind her like a shot.

"You're going?" She asked, her voice more panicked than she had intended.

"Yeah, I uh ... I need to..."

"Stay. Please?" Cath interrupted, reaching out to grip Sara's hand. "I ... I've got something I want to show you." She gently tugged Sara back into the lounge where she retrieved the box, abandoned by the side of the couch. Sara watched her, intrigued, as she carefully took something from it and offered it to the girl. Sara took it cautiously. It was a photograph, showing a much younger Catherine sat cross-legged on the floor, cradling a baby.

Cradling her, she supposed.

"Nancy took it." Cath explain, sitting down. "While mom and Martin were arguing." Sara dropped unceremoniously onto the couch next to her, eyes still glued to the faded picture. Catherine was busy rummaging through her box. Finally, she found what she was looking for: the rose. "You're father gave me this, the night we..."she trailed off, but it didn't matter because Sara wasn't listening anyway, her attention on the flower.

"What else do you have?" She asked quietly, shifting her gaze to the box. Catherine held it out to her, a soft smile playing on her lips. Sara carefully looked through each item in turn.

"I used to look in here all the time. I had to hide it, because Martin didn't like me mentioning you in the house. And of course, mom didn't like it because Martin didn't like it." She babbled, but Sara wasn't listening.

"I just can't believe you kept all of this stuff."

"I had to. It was all I had of you." Cath smiled sadly. "I didn't have photos or mementos; this was all I had to remember you by. And whenever I wanted to remind myself, I could get these out." She said, holding the little toy pony between her fingers. She looked up, studying Sara's face carefully. The young woman was staring pensively at the rose again. "Stay." Catherine whispered.

"What?"

"Stay the night." She repeated, taking Sara's hands carefully in her own. "It's safer than you driving home in this." She gestured to the rain, still beating at the window pane. "I have a guest room; it'll only take me a minute to set up...please."

X x x

True to her word, Catherine had the guest room ready in no time. She had been pleasantly surprised that Sara had not put up much of a fight, but then the brunette seemed too shattered to care at the moment. Not that Cath was complaining.

Not wanting to push the girl too far too soon, she placed a mug of hot tea by her bed and left her to sleep. She checked briefly on Lindsey; sound asleep, before locking up downstairs and retiring to her bedroom.

Sliding between the sheets of her own bed, Catherine couldn't help but smile. For the first time in thirty one years she had her two children back where they should be: under her own roof. And for the first time in her life, she could go to bed knowing exactly where her daughter was.

For the first time, she knew that her beautiful baby was safe.

X x x

"Sara, sweetie what's wrong?" Catherine asked sleepily, leaning over the edge of the bed. Sara was sat on the floor leaning against the bed, using the light from her phone as a torch to read something.

"Nothing." Sara mumbled, startled by the voice.

"What are you doing?" Cath asked, clicking the bedside lamp on. She could see now what Sara was reading. It was one of the letters she had sent Jack all those years ago.

"I just ... wanted to know." Sara answered, blushing guiltily.

"It's okay." Cath assured her. "You know you can ask anything you want." She offered her hand to Sara, who cautiously took it and let Cath tug her to her feet. The blonde dragged her onto the bed and began rearranging the covers and pillows, watched by a nervous Sara. She encouraged her to sit back, which the younger woman did with some apprehension. She leant over her, lifting the box onto the bed and settled herself against the headboard with it on her lap.

And one by one, she talked Sara through the contents.

X x x

"Bella?" Sara raised an eyebrow.

"What? I thought it was cute." Cath smiled. "Don't look at me like that."

"Not Annabella or Isabella. Just ... Bella?"

"If you must know, it was something you're ... Jack called me. Bella ragazza." To her surprise, Sara laughed.

"The little Romeo." She shook her head.

"What? What does it mean?" Cath asked, nudging her.

"It's Italian for beautiful girl."

"Well it's a fitting name for you then, isn't it?" Cath beamed. "Nancy loved it too. We used to talk about you all the time." She continued. "Martin wouldn't have it. He hated you being mentioned, like I'd brought shame on the family for bringing you into it."

"Charming." Sara mumbled.

"All he thought about was what people would think. He never considered what it did to me, loosing you." She surreptitiously wiped away a stray tear at the memory. "He and mom used to fight all the time, about me mainly. Eventually, he left. Mom hated me, because of it. Nancy hated me because I'd chased away her father. My grades started slipping, even more than they had been. My friends ditched me. Mom decided we should move, which is why we came to Vegas. And you know what happened after that."

"Wow. I'm sorry." Sara mumbled, averting her gaze. "I never realised I wrecked your life as well as Jack's." Catherine looked up sharply.

"Oh no, honey, you didn't." She corrected. Sara laughed dryly.

"How didn't I? I tore your family apart, I ruined your school life..."

"No Sara, I did that all by myself. And mom ... mom and Martin argued all the time, long before you came along. They blamed the divorce on me but it would have happened eventually."

"I didn't exactly help matters though."

"Yes you did Sara." Cath contradicted. "You helped me. You were the only thing that kept me going. The thought that one day, somehow, I would find you again." She reached out to stroke Sara's cheek affectionately. "And I did." Sara smiled softly.

"I wish it had been easier for you." She whispered.

"Me too. But you're here now. That's all that matters." She wrapped an arm around Sara's shoulders and pulled her close, breathing in the scent of her hair.

X x x

After a while she noticed Sara had gone very quiet and glanced down. A smile spread across her face. Sara, her little Sara, was fast asleep against her shoulder. Carefully, she moved the box onto the floor and repositioned herself and her daughter so they were laid down, with Sara tucked into the crook of her neck. One hand latched itself onto her shirt, clasping it tightly ... just like Lindsey used to.

Cath smiled, nuzzling the top of Sara's head softly. "Good night Bella." She whispered.

**x x x x**

**Thoughts? :)**


	19. Repercussions

**Little bit shorter but hope y'all enjoy x**

**x x x x**

_June 1973_

"Honestly girl, I do not know what's got into you lately." Lily moaned as Catherine skulked around behind her miserably. "You're school reports were never exactly stunning but..." she trailed off. The less-than-gleaming report from her teachers pretty much said all that needed to be said.

_Increasingly poor attendance_

_Mouthing off in class_

_Arguing with classmates_

_Failure to hand in homework_

_Below average final exam results_

And the most striking, in Catherine's mind at least:

_Failure to attend a single physical education lesson since spring break_

Well come on, how could she? Since the bizarre idea of having communal changing rooms forced teenagers to strip off in front of one another, there was no way in hell she was setting foot in one while pregnant.

But of course, she couldn't explain that to her mother.

"I just don't know what to do with you." Lily continued her rant, and Catherine sensed the arrival of the disappointed sigh; and there it was without fail. "Sometimes I think you just do it to upset us."

Catherine didn't answer. What possible answer could she conjure for that anyway?

Thankfully, she didn't have to. The slamming of the front door alerted them to the arrival of Martin, and warned Catherine that Lily had already phoned to inform him of her, once again, letting the side down.

He walked straight past Catherine and pecked Lily on the lips, tossed his coat on the back of the couch and poured himself a brandy.

Yeah, he knew.

Deciding to dodge his wrath, Catherine tried to escape upstairs, but she wasn't quite quick enough.

"Hey, hold up missy." Lily called her back. "After dinner we're going to Grandma's, so put some nice clothes on and wipe that scowl off your face." Cath groaned.

"I don't wanna go to Grandma's." she whined.

"Tough. You're going. We're all going."

"I'm not." Cath muttered as she sloped upstairs.

X x x

Catherine decided to forgo dinner that night. Of course Lily tried to change her mind but if it was a choice between going hungry or sitting through the uncomfortable silence that seemed to stalk her around the house, she would rather starve.

So while her family sat together downstairs, Catherine sulked alone in her room.

It was not that she didn't want to see her grandmother. It was more that she was scared to see her. Her grandmother had a strange sense of intuition. She knew things. And there was one secret that she did not need granny stumbling upon right now. And as such, there was no way in hell that she was going to grandma's tonight.

"Catherine!" Lily hollered upstairs. Catherine groaned and hauled herself off the bed, dragging herself begrudgingly to the top of the stairs. "You're not ready." Lily pointed out the obvious.

"I told you, I'm not going to Grandma's." Cath stated. Lily sighed.

"Look Catherine, I am not having this argument with you again. You are going and that's final." She insisted, straightening out Nancy's collar. "We're all going."

"I'm not going." Catherine repeated calmly.

"Catherine, get your butt down here right now!" Martin demanded, placing his hands on his hips firmly.

"No!"

"Catherine!" Lily warned, but the miniature blonde refused to budge. She crossed her arms over her chest and stood her ground.

"Why should I go? She's not even my grandmother!" She barked. "Just like you're not my father!" There was a stunned silence that seemed to last an age before martin finally spoke between clenched teeth.

"I won't say it again Catherine. Get in the car."

"Fuck you." She said coldly, stalking back into her room to the horrified call of her mother.

She crawled back onto her bed, curling up in a ball and waiting for the inevitable sound of footsteps upstairs. But they never came.

She heard the front door slam and the engine start up. She lay perfectly still and silent, listening to the car pull out of the driveway and disappear into the foggy night, a successful smile playing on her lips.

She had won. This time.

X x x

Needless to say, she hadn't exactly been expecting a welcome reception when she slunk into the kitchen the following morning, but she was not quite prepared for the cold shoulder she received.

"Morning." She mumbled quietly, sliding into a seat. Her mother ignored her, staring blankly out of the window. "How's grandma?" She asked softly. She was genuinely interested, but she was also trying to fill the suffocating silence.

"I thought she wasn't your grandma anymore." Lily stated coldly. Cath looked down, ashamed.

"Did you tell her I said that?" She asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"No." Lily sighed. "I didn't think she needed to know what kind of disappointment her granddaughter is."

"I didn't mean it." Cath mumbled sadly. Lily turned to her, leaning back against the counter.

"Then why did you say it?" She asked. "God, I don't know what's going through your head sometimes, girl."

"I'm sorry."

"Really?" Lily scoffed.

"She means it." Nancy piped up from the table, a defensive little scowl on her face.

"Go to your room Nancy." Lily sighed. "Your sister and I need a little chat."

"Don't yell at her."

"Go to your room Nancy, I won't tell you again!"

"Don't yell at her!" Catherine barked instinctively. "It's not her you're mad at!" Lily looked taken aback at Catherine's heartfelt defence. While she gathered herself, Cath was on her feet and heading to the door, followed closely by her little sister.

"Hey, we still need to talk Catherine." She yelled at her daughter's retreating form. Alone, she dropped into a chair and let her head fall onto the table despondently.

X x x

"Catherine?" A timid voice interrupted her thoughts and she glanced up to find Nancy watching her from the doorway.

"What?" She asked, turning her attention back to the book she had been half-heartedly trying to read.

"I'm stuck on my maths and mom's not here. Can you help me?" Normally a question like that would have prompted an immediate answer, but not today. Today, something stopped her. As she opened her mouth to speak, the baby kicked.

It was just a flutter, but she felt it. A hand flew to her stomach and she inhaled with surprise.

"Cathy?" Nancy asked uncertainly. Cath's eyes darted to hers.

"Yeah." She said softly. "Yeah, I'll help you."


	20. The pilot light of memory

**Extra long chapter in return for my faithful readers being so patient. Keep reviewing guys :)**

**x x x x**

"Lindsey, I have to go to work, can we talk about this later?" Catherine said with frustration as she searched frantically for her car keys.

"But you said I could go." Lindsey huffed, following her around the house.

"I said I'd think about it." Cath corrected, exhausting the kitchen and moving onto the lounge.

"So can I go?"

"I'm still thinking about it."

"But mom!" Lindsey whined as Catherine snatched her keys triumphantly.

"Look, I don't have time for this. Just be good for grandma and I will talk to you later." She said, holding her hands up. Lindsey stropped sullenly upstairs and slammed her door. Catherine sighed.

"What's the harm in letting her go to the party Catherine?" Lily asked, materialising from her hiding place.

"What's the harm? Have you forgotten already what I got up to at a party when I was her age?"

"Catherine." Lily shook her head. "It's a birthday slumber party."

"On a school night." Cath added. "I really don't have time for this mom." She said, already making her way down the drive.

"You're going to push her away Catherine." Lily warned in that infuriatingly knowing voice of hers.

"Mom, please. I have to go to work."

"Alright, go. Just think about what I said. Remember why you fell off the rails. Don't make the same mistakes that I did." Having said her piece, Lily shuffled back up the driveway. Cath sighed and climbed reluctantly into her car.

X x x

Although she was glad to be away from the row that was surely brewing at home, she'd rather not be at work either. However the one upside of that was that she would see her less argumentative daughter again.

And sure enough, it did not take long before there was a soft knock at her office door.

"Hey you." She greeted with a warm smile, which Sara returned shyly. "You moving in?" She asked with amusement, noting the box in Sara's arms.

"No, actually. These are for you." She said, placing the shoebox on the desk. Cath raised an eyebrow curiously. She pulled it towards her and peered inside: there were several packets of photographs. She picked up the top one and pulled out a photo. She could tell straight away that the smiling little girl was Sara. "It's not much, but ... I thought you ... you might like ..."

"It's lovely. Thank you." Catherine beamed, saving Sara from stammering. She stood up and pulled the young brunette into an awkward hug.

X x x

Catherine was thankful that the criminals were on hiatus tonight as she sat in the peace of her office, looking through Sara's photos. She was so engrossed in the bright eyes and the coy little smile of the girl that she never heard Warrick enter. He leant over her shoulder, peering at the photo.

"Wow, cute kid." Catherine jumped at the voice in her ear. Recovering fast, she smiled in agreement.

"My kid."

"Man, you know I just can't get my head around that." Warrick chuckled softly, making himself comfortable opposite the desk.

"You think I can?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the photos.

"Where'd you get these anyway?" He asked, picked up a few and flicking through them.

"Sara brought them for me." She smiled softly, tracing her fingertips over a photo of a little brunette curled up in an armchair with a book. It appeared to have been taken in a children's' home.

"Ah." He said knowingly. "So, you talked to her then."

"No, actually. She came to me." Cath said, unable to keep the glee out of her voice.

"Yeah? That's great. Seriously Cath, I'm happy for you."

"But?" Cath asked, sensing more to the tone of Warrick's voice.

"But, just don't expect too much too soon. Sara's fragile, you know, don't rush her."

"I know." She agreed quietly. "I just ... can't believe I've found her. I've spent my whole life waiting for this and she's been working next to me for five years." She put the pictures done and shook her head with bemusement. "You know, I used to imagine what it would be like to find her. Whether she would even want to know me anymore."

"Well I don't think you have to worry about that." Rick pointed out.

"No, I guess not." She agreed absently. "I don't know, I just don't want to screw it up."

"Come on Cath, you're a great mom."

"Yeah? Tell Lindsey that because she's not talking to me at the moment." She mumbled. Warrick frowned.

"Lindsey's a teenager. Whatever it is, she'll get over it. Just, talk to Sara. Get to know her." He patted her shoulder on his way out but she didn't respond. "Hey," he called from the threshold. She looked up expectantly. "I know that Sara wants you in her life. Give her time to adjust, she'll come to you."

X x x

"What are you doing?" Grissom's voice startled her and she looked up.

"Erm, Sara gave me some photos to see." She explained, hastily putting them away. "Guess I got distracted." Griss picked a stray photo up and studied it carefully before placing it back where he found it. Cath waited expectantly for the lecture about using work hours productively, but to her surprise her sighed and sat down.

"Catherine ... why did you never tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you had another child."

"It's not something I like to talk about." Cath explained quietly. "It wasn't exactly the highlight of my life; having a baby literally ripped from my arms at birth."

"Did you know?"

"That it was Sara? No." Cath shook her head. "I only found out a few weeks ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He repeated.

"I didn't know how to tell her, I wasn't even thinking about how to tell anyone else." She answered honestly. He was quiet for a moment, thinking. "Are we okay?" She asked uncertainly at last. He looked up, pulled from his thoughts.

"Take care of her." He replied enigmatically before walking out.

She frowned, puzzled, as she watched him disappear into the hall.

X x x

Having finally decided to do some work, Catherine was just finishing a case statement when Sara appeared in her doorway again. Cath nudged the photos towards her but Sara shook her head.

"You keep them." She said. Cath quirked an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

"I don't need them." Sara shrugged. "I hadn't looked at them in years. I just thought..." she trailed off, waving a hand in the direction of them vaguely. Cath smiled, understanding.

"Thank you." She whispered, pulling them back towards her protectively. "You heading out?"

"Yeah." Sara nodded. "I just thought I'd come see if you were okay before I left. You've been quiet today."

"I thought it was supposed to be my job to worry about you." Cath joked, which Sara answered with a half smile. "I'm okay. Just...it doesn't matter."

"What?" Sara pressed. Cath sighed, resting her elbows on the desk.

"Lindsey wants to go to a party, I said no. She's not talking to me and my mother is being less than helpful." She rattled off. Sara frowned pensively, which made Cath chuckle. "Bet you're thrilled to be a part of this family now." Sara laughed.

"I've dealt with worse." She answered honestly. "Cat, you're her mom. It's your decision."

"I know." She mumbled. "Are you free today?" She asked, changing the subject. Sara shrugged. "If you are, feel free to stop by. Anytime." Catherine smiled, reaching across the desk to rest a hand on Sara's. To her delight Sara interlocker their fingers loosely.

"I will."

X x x

When she got home, the shoebox tucked under her arm, the house was deathly quiet. She dropped her keys by the door and placed the box on the coffee table. Lily appeared out of the kitchen.

"Oh, hey mom. Guess what Sara brought me..." She started, but Lily barely looked at her as she grabbed her coat.

"Lindsey's awake. She's already had breakfast." She cut her off coolly as she left. Cath shook it off and moved to the bottom of the stairs.

"Lindsey! I'm home." No answer. Well, she hadn't really expected one anyway.

Since Linds wasn't talking to her, Catherine found another way to entertain herself. She was sat cross-legged on lounge floor, sorting out her new photos into albums.

And for the third time that day, someone snuck up on her.

"That her?"

"Jesus Nancy, you scared the life out of me." Nancy picked up a photo, not listening.

"Where did you get these?"

"Sara gave them to me. She said I could keep them."

"I take it Lindsey doesn't know about her yet?" Nancy asked, kneeling next to her. Cath winced.

"No, I haven't figured out how I'm going to tell her."

"Well you'd better do it soon. She's a smart kid; it won't be long before she get's suspicious."

"I know. But she's not exactly speaking to me at the moment."

"Well whatever it is, sort it out. You can't keep her in the dark forever."

"I know Nance." Cath sighed exasperatedly, handing her a mug of coffee. Nancy picked up another photo and laughed.

"Sullen little thing wasn't she?"

"Yeah, well. She didn't exactly have a lot to me happy about."

"What do you mean?" The younger sister frowned.

"Sara's ... father's family were abusive. His mother was schizophrenic and killed her husband. Sara was taken into care." She chewed her lip. "She'd have been better off if we'd had her adopted."

"Yeah. Well, nothing that happened that night was given much thought." They mused sadly over this as they sipped their coffee and looked at the depressing images.

X x x

After Nancy had gone, Catherine decided to bite the bullet and rapped on Lindsey's door before entering. Lindsey was curled up at the top of the bed with a book, a surly look on her face, as Cath sat down next to her.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"If the school rang, it's not like it sounds."

"No its not ... what happened at school?"

"Nothing." Lindsey shook her head. Cath scowled, but quickly shook it off. Bigger fish, and all that.

"There's something you need to know." She started gently. "Now, I need you to know that this doesn't change anything between you and me: you'll always be my little girl." Lindsey nodded, looked decidedly puzzled. Taking a deep breath, Cath handed her the photograph that Nancy had taken all those years ago.

"Who's that?"

"That's me, when I was a couple of years older than you are now." Lindsey scrunched up her nose, staring closely at the photo. "Linds, when I was 15 I had a baby. And my parents took her away from me."

"Why?" The girl asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Because they didn't want anyone to find out."

"Where did they take her?"

"To her father's family to raise." She paused for a minute, gathering her thoughts. "I found out recently that Sara, from work, she's that baby. My baby." Lindsey was quiet for a long moment.

"Does she know?"

"Yes."

"So, what happens now?"

"Well, I'd really like to spend more time with her. And she wants to get to know us better. If you want that..?" Lindsey nodded slowly, her wide blue eyes seeking out the photo again.

Cath made to leave, giving Lindsey a chance to get to grips with this. Reaching the door, she turned to look back at her daughter. The twelve year old was sat cross-legged on the bed, staring at the photo. Like Catherine had, years before.

X x x

Catherine had gone back to her albums when Lindsey finally crept downstairs. Silently, she handed the photo back, before settling herself on Catherine's lap, much to the blonde's surprise.

"So, Sara's like my big sister, right?" She asked, flicking through the album so far.

"That's right." Cath nodded, resting her chin on her daughter's shoulder.

"Cool." Lindsey mumbled, causing Cath to bite back a smile. "What are you doing?"

"I'm organising them. Do you want to help?" Lindsey nodded, already selecting a pile to work through.

As they sorted the jumbled images, Catherine explained how Sara had been given away and how long it had taken to find her again. Lindsey listened eagerly, asking questions. To her own surprise, it Catherine found that it felt good to be able to talk about it in detail. It struck her that this was the first time she had confided in someone how those years had affected her.

Their chat was interrupted by a knock at the door and as she stood up to answer, stretching as she went, Cath realised how late it had gotten. They'd skipped lunch.

She swung the door open, and a wide smile graced her lips.

"Sara." She beamed. Before the brunette could speak Lindsey had ambushed her into a hug. "She knows." Cath explained.

"Oh." Sara nodded, returning the hug uncertainly. Cath prised her free and gestured for Sara to enter.

"Hey baby, why don't you go finish your homework; Sara and I have something to talk about, and then maybe we can get pizza and watch a movie?"

"With Sara?"

"Sure, if she wants." Without a word of argument, Lindsey scampered upstairs. Cath followed her other daughter into the lounge.

"I hope you don't have plans because I think you're staying for movie night." She said. Sara didn't answer, too busy looking at the scattered mass of photos.

"You're organising them?"

"Yeah." Cath grinned. "Coffee?"

As she had done with her sister earlier, she handed Sara a mug and sat on the floor next to her.

"You know you can have them back anytime." She promised.

"No its okay. You seem to make better use of them than me." Sara answered absently. "There's some missing though." Biting her lip, Catherine reached over and gently tilted Sara's face up to the mantelpiece, where two new picture frames had appeared. Sara laughed softly.

"You don't hang about do you?"

"No."

X x x

Sara agreed to stay for movie night, since it seemed she didn't have a choice where Lindsey was concerned, and it was not long before pizza was ordered and Will Smith graced their screen. Lindsey made sure she was seated next to Sara, and nestled herself against her newfound sister's arm.

And as per usual, the girl was out like a light before the end of the movie.

"Come on sleepy." Cath smiled, shaking her awake and leading her to bed by the hand. When she returned downstairs a few minutes later she found Sara tidying up the mess they had made. "Don't worry about it." Cath promised, gripping her wrist lightly. She studied Sara's face. "Will you stay? I know it's your night off and you look too tired to drive."

X x x

Catherine was discreetly ecstatic when Sara agreed to stay the night, and she was on cloud nine when she crept into the spare room that night. She knew she shouldn't but she couldn't help herself. The temptation was too hard to resist: she had to watch her sleep for just a little while.

She looked so peaceful. Beautiful.


	21. Enter sandman

**Sorry for the wait, and for the dark side to this chapter, but hope you enjoy x**

**x x x x **

At 17 Catherine left home. Left Vegas. By 21 she was back, taking her clothes off for a living. At 24, she met Eddie.

The first time Eddie had knocked her about she blamed it on the alcohol. The loss of a potential music client had hit him hard and he had turned to drink to soothe his wounds. When she tried to comfort him, he lashed out. Understandably, or so she had told herself.

There was always a reason, an explanation. An excuse.

Except that night. Because that night she was pregnant.

They had gotten into a fight about money, or the lack of it, and she finally pushed him to his limit. He slapped her so hard she fell to the floor, her arms circling her stomach protectively as she fell. But it wasn't enough.

She lost the baby.

X x x

She had lied. Lied to the doctor, lied to the nurses. She told them she had fallen down the stairs. Crappy lie, she knew, but it was the best she had under the circumstances.

Lying in the hospital bed, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if it wasn't too late to save her child, she thought about why she had protected him. Fear, perhaps? She knew that he hadn't meant to hurt her or the baby, but she also knew that he possessed a lot more strength then even he believed. She wasn't scared of Eddie, most of the time. Just sometimes.

Lying there, numb, she didn't cry for the baby she had lost; not yet. Later, when she was alone in the privacy of her own home then she could cry. But now, she lay awake, staring at the stark white ceiling, wondering where her life had fallen off the tracks.

X x x

Eddie never came back to the hospital. Not even when she was discharged. She half expected him to be waiting for her at her flat, but he was nowhere in sight. No phone calls. No flowers. Not even a card.

She practically collapsed onto the dilapidated couch, letting her bag remain where it had fallen by the door. She looked around, wondering once again how her life had turned to this. What little furniture she had was falling to pieces. The walls were cracked and faded. She realised that he had never actually looked at her two-room flat properly before. She was barely ever in it long enough to take notice of the little things like the dated furnishings and the stains on the carpet.

Looking around now, she wondered why. Why was she living in this crap-shack, detached from her family, taking her clothes off just to make a buck? And where did that money go? Drugs, mainly.

Her own boyfriend put her in hospital and didn't even care enough to visit her. She wondered whether anyone would even notice of she just lay down and died right now. She tried to push the thought away but it kept finding its way back, and the thought became more and more appealing. Maybe she should do just that.

X x x

Ignoring the throbbing in her stomach, she hauled herself off the couch to the kitchen. She had two bottles of vodka in the bottom cupboard and she intended to make good use of them. Them and the stash of cocaine in the cutlery drawer.

She tried to stand back up, but her legs decided to stop working so she sat on the kitchen floor and started to make her pain go away.

The more she consumed the less of her body she could feel and the more this seemed to be a good idea. What did she have to live for anyway? Her family didn't want to know her, her boyfriend didn't care about her, she had effectively lost two children and nobody cared enough to so much as phone and make sure she was okay.

Well, everything would be okay soon.

X x x

Bright lights. Too many bright lights. She cracked one eye open carefully and tried to look around and suss out her surroundings but it hurt to even move. Well at least she knew one thing for sure; she wasn't dead. Death wasn't supposed to be this painful.

That smell. As soon as it hit her she knew exactly where she was. Someone was poking her but she ignored it. Finally they stopped.

She heard the door creak open, but didn't open her eyes. It was probably a nurse, or Eddie, or...

"Catherine?" Her eyes flew open, seeking out the voice.

"Mom?" She mumbled, her voice beginning to crack. Her mother didn't rush over to hug her. She remained rooted to the spot, barely inside the room.

"Oh Catherine." Lily sighed, shaking her head sadly. "What happened to you my girl?"

And finally, Catherine broke.

X x x

Lily stayed all night, one hand firmly clutching her wayward daughter's. When Cath blinked her eyes open, her vision blurred from sleep, Lily was curled by her side on the bed, one hand gently placed on her stomach.

She rolled onto her side, nestling her head into the crook of Lily's neck. Her mother stirred, instinctively pressing Catherine tighter to herself before releasing her and sitting up.

"How do you feel?" She asked softly.

"Like someone's kicked me in the stomach." Catherine answered honestly, her voice hoarse from sleep. She curled into a ball, letting Lily stroke her hair gently. "What happened?" she mumbled at last.

"You tried to overdose, that's what happened." Lily sighed. "They pumped your stomach. Found half a bottle of sleeping pills in there." This was news to Catherine. Sleeping pills? She vaguely recalled crawling into the bathroom... "What happened to you, Cathy?" Lily asked sadly, sniffing back tears. Cath didn't answer. She remained as she was, curled up in a ball with her eyes tight closed.

X x x

When Eddie finally came out of hiding and showed his face a day later, Catherine took him back. She couldn't tell you why she did it, or why she didn't tell her mother about the miscarriage.

Sam had once told her that everything happened for a reason. She didn't know what the reason was for these things, or for what reason she had lost her baby.

But she knew why she did what she did, and it taught her two things:

She had to find a new job, and a new home.

And she had to find her little girl.


	22. Family dramas

"What are you doing?" Sara asked, hovering in the doorway of the bedroom, her hair, still damp from her shower, clinging to her skin.

"Tidying." Catherine turned to smile at her briefly, before going back to making the bed.

"Why?" Sara asked suspiciously, edging further into the room.

"Because you are a surprisingly untidy creature." Cath joked, indicating the clothes strewn about the room, the unmade bed and the towel dropped haphazardly on the floor.

"I can clean up after myself."Sara said slightly indignantly.

"I know. But I want to." Cath responded, walking around her, gathering up clothes in the process.

"Cath, you don't..."

"Sara honey, I've missed out on years of taking care of you. Give me something." She interrupted, a soft smile playing on her lips. Sara shrugged, accepting defeat. She had a feeling she was going to have to do that a lot.

She dropped onto the now made bed and reached for her hairbrush, but before she could get it Cath beat her to it and planted herself behind Sara on the bed, dragging the brush through Sara's hair tenderly. Sara frowned but remained still, letting Cath have her moment of mothering. Eventually she stilled Catherine's hands and took the brush from her. The blonde smiled appreciatively and kissed Sara's forehead, mumbling a thank you against her skin.

X x x

Catherine sailed downstairs with an absent-minded smile on her face. She knew that it must be strange for Sara and she appreciated the effort the brunette was making. Sara had never been a tactile person, and yet she was willing to humour Cath. That meant a lot.

Her smile disappeared, however, when she drifted into the kitchen.

"I gave you a key for emergencies." She frowned at her sister. Nancy glanced up over the top of her coffee cup and nodded in agreement, before returning to reading the paper. Lily pushed herself away from the counter and sat opposite her youngest daughter, addressing Catherine coolly.

"We need to talk." Cath sighed and dropped into a chair between them.

"About what?" She was sure she could guess, but she asked anyway.

"About the girl in your spare room." Lily said, raising an eyebrow pointedly. Cath nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Cathy, are you sure it's a good idea to have her here?" She was started off nicely, working up to her point.

"Where else should she be?" Cath responded. She had played this game with her mother many times and could figure where this was going.

"She's not the little girl you gave up anymore Catherine. She's an adult now. And she already has a family, a mother."

"She never had a mother." Cath retorted coldly. "The woman that raised her – the woman _you_ let raise her – left her at the mercy of a drunk. She was in care before she hit middle school." Lily and Nancy went quiet, thinking about this.

"How is she dealing with everything?" Nancy asked at last, putting her mug down and giving her sister her undivided attention.

"She's okay actually. It's weird for her but she's getting there." Cath nodded. "We're getting there." She corrected.

"And Lindsey? How's she dealing with this little revelation?" Lily asked. Cath smiled.

"Surprisingly well. She loves Sara already." She couldn't help it; she had to gloat a little. Lily didn't have an answer to that so she went silent for a moment. Catherine used this to her advantage to play her own ace card. "Mom, Sara's your granddaughter. Don't you at least want to get to know her before you cast her out? Again." She glanced at Nancy, hoping for a little sisterly support.

"It couldn't hurt to get to spend some time with her." And thus, it was received. Lily looked between the two of them for a moment before her features softened.

"Of course I want to get to know her." She conceded. "I just don't want you to lose her again and get your heart broken."

"Excuse me. I never 'lost' her in the first place." Cath pointed out. "_Somebody_ took her away from me."

"I did what I thought was best for my daughter. You'd have done the same thing." Lily said, realising her slip up as soon as the words left her mouth. And sure enough, Cath picked up on it.

"I was trying to do the best thing for my daughter, but you never gave me chance." She stood up and walked over to the window, purely to avoid having to see her mother's pitying gaze any longer. "It's up to you whether you want to get to know her or not. But I am not losing her again."

X x x

At some point during the stony silence than followed, Lily left. When Catherine turned around she found her sister staring at her expectantly.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Catherine sighed, sitting back down.

"Are you going to introduce me or not?" Nancy asked, folding her arms on the table.

"Now?"

"I'm here. She's here. I want to meet my niece."

"You know, I'm not sure she's quite ready to meet the family yet." Cath said gently.

"Come on Cathy, I won't bite." Nancy pleaded. Cath rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Alright, I'll ask her. But if she says no, you leave."

X x x

"Hey, you decent?" She knocked gently on the door and poked her head inside. Sara was sat cross-legged on the bed, reading a magazine. She looked up and smiled. Cath moved carefully into the room and perched on the edge of the bed.

"What's up?" Sara asked, a soft frown etching itself into her features.

"Nancy's downstairs. She wants to meet you." Cath explained. "I know that all this is a lot to take in and if you're not ready for this yet then that's okay." She promised, taking Sara's hand. The young woman chewed her lip nervously for a moment. At last, she nodded.

X x x

Nancy was pacing in the living room when Catherine finally emerged on the stairs, Sara's hand clamped tightly in her own. If anything the nurse seemed more nervous than the girl herself.

"Nancy, this is Sara." Cath squeezed her hand gently and Sara smiled in greeting. Nancy didn't speak at first. She stepped closer and started to raise a hand to Sara's face but Cath gestured subtly to her to stop so she let her hand drop limply to her side.

"You were born with those eyes you know." She managed to say at last.

"Excuse me?" Sara said softly, caught off guard by the random comment.

"Dark eyes." Nancy elaborated. "It was the first thing I noticed about you when you were born."

"You remember that?" Sara asked with a small smile, blushing.

"Of course." Nancy smiled. Cath grinned happily between them, looking from one to the other. Sara remained close by her side, but she could feel the girl relaxing more by the second.

"Well I wish I could say I remember you, but..." she joked. Nancy laughed and shook her head.

"I bet it's made an interesting bed time story for you." She said, casting a glance at her sister's face.

"Yeah, it's been ... interesting." She agreed. "It's nice to know my whole family isn't screwed up though." Nancy laughed again and nudged Catherine playfully.

"Oh girl, there's a lot of things you don't know about your mother."

X x x

"Cath." Sara asked after Lindsey had gone to bed.

"Hmm?" Cath hummed from the sink.

"What was Jack like? Back then?" Catherine dropped the tea towel onto the counter and turned to face Sara.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he left home when I was quite young. I never really knew him. And now...that's probably best left for another day."

"I didn't really know him Hun, I only met him once." Cath said, sitting down next to her. "But from what I saw: he was charming. Sweet, even. He had a good sense of humour." She smiled at Sara. "He was a lot like you."

Sara nodded absently, seemingly content with the answer. Cath scrutinised her for a moment. There was something she had been meaning to ask, and now seemed as good a time as any.

"While we're on the subject of men, is there anything I should know?" She asked as gently as she could.

"What?" Sara asked, looking up suddenly. Cath chuckled.

"Honey, I'm not blind. And I also don't particularly want Gil Grissom as a son-in-law." She nudged Sara half-jokingly. "So, is there anything...?"

"No." Sara cut her off. "Uh huh. There's nothing going on." She promised. Cath nodded, satisfied, and stood up. On her way back to the sink she leant down to Sara's ear.

"And the same goes for Greg Sanders too."

**x x x x**

**:)**


	23. Sequins, satin and no stars

_July 2 1975_

The silver streamers glittered in the strobe lights.

Open arms, by Journey drifted out of the penthouse suite, filling the hallway momentarily with the sounds of teenage laughter filled the casino halls.

She felt her date's hand on the small of her back, encouraging her into the dark room.

"I'll get us a drink." James said against her ear, his breath ticking the skin of her neck.

Alone, she scanned the room. People dancing, people drinking. Balloons danced on the ceiling, drifting above people's heads while they twirled each other obliviously around the room. Music blared from speakers that were already almost hidden behind a precarious pyramid of empty cans. Everywhere you looked there were sequins glistening and satin shimmering under the sparkly disco ball.

Prom night.

X x x

James reappeared at her side and produced a beer bottle.

"Thanks." She mumbled, accepting it automatically.

"This is pretty great, huh?" He bounced excitedly at her side.

"Yeah, great." She agreed unenthusiastically.

X x x

Normally dancing would take the edge off her discomfort at being here, but tonight her heart wasn't in it. James was doing his best to make her smile but the lad wasn't quite cutting it.

Half way through Diana Ross he seemed to move closer to her, until she could feel his breath on her lips. Before she even knew what was happening, she was kissing him. As soon as their lips met the words from that letter flashed through her memory and she panicked. She pulled away and stumbled backwards, putting as much distance between them as the crowded dance floor would permit.

She weaved her way through the crowd, making a beeline for the door.

"Cath?" James watched her retreat with a soft frown on his boyish face.

"I've got to go." She managed to mumble, before making a break for the exit. She could hear James calling her name as he stumbled to follow her but she didn't stop running.

She was pleasantly surprised to discover how much speed she could gather in her heels as she cleared the main staircase in seconds.

Launching herself down the last few steps, she hit the ground running and didn't stop when she reached the door, letting the cool night air wash over her as she disappeared onto the Strip.

X x x

The sidewalk blurred beneath her feet as she ran, tears stinging her eyes. Her shoes were long gone, tossed in an alleyway she had passed several minutes earlier. They were slowing her down.

When she finally stopped running and looked up, she had no idea where she was. Over the past year she had done a pretty good job of learning her way around this small town, but right now she couldn't tell whether she'd been running North or South. She was lost.

X x x

"Well now, what's a pretty young thing like you doing out here all alone?" The guy seemed to be circling her, sizing her up.

"Leave me alone." She mumbled, trying to walk away.

"Hey, now wait a minute, wait a minute. Maybe I can help put a smile back on your face." He offered. "Don't you want to make all your pain go away?" She stopped walking and could practically hear him smile. "Unless of course you've got some place to be?"

She was about to say that she did when her mother's words flooded her mind.

"_You're at a new school, in a new town. It's a new chance for you girl, why can't you just behave yourself?"_

"_Why can't you just be a normal teenage girl?"_

"_You've been at this school five minutes and already you've made enemies with the teachers and the students."_

"_It's the last time you have to be around these people, can't you leave school on a high note?"_

"_You're going to go to your prom and have a good time. You can't let your date down."_

She briefly felt a pang of guilt for ditching James, but it soon past. She was sure he was having a good time with his mates anyway.

"No. I'm free as a bird." He grinned at her, white teeth shining in the streetlight.

"Does the bird want a treat?"

X x x

The 'treat' in question came from a little plastic packet.

She watched him pull out the sachet, looking around himself secretively, and pouring a little bit out onto a low wall, shielding it from the wind with his hand. She observed with fascination as he separated it into two lines and smiled that same smarmy smile at her.

"Beginners get first choice." He said, offering her a rolled up piece of paper that he had produced from somewhere.

"You know, I really need to go." Catherine tried to backtrack, stepping away, but he caught her slim wrist with his cold, bony fingers.

"Come on, try it." He dipped his finger into the white powder and held it up to her mouth. "Taste it." Tentatively, her tongue crept out and dabbed the powder. It tasted bitter. "Good?" He grinned again, releasing her arm.

"I need to go." She repeated, staggering backwards. "I have to go."

"Hey, I don't share often. You should make the most of it." He tried to coax her back but she was already running. "Your loss sugar!" He called after her, his manic laugh stalking her down the empty back street.

X x x

Her feet, cold and sore, kicked against the wall lazily. She looked out over the deserted lot morosely, sniffing back tears. Her hair whipped around her face in the wind. It reminded her of California; of the beach.

She never heard the soft footsteps approaching behind her until they stopped a few feet away. She turned her head just slightly to the side, listening.

"Muggs."

X x x

That was all he said. He sat on the wall next to her and took her small hand loosely in his own.

"I didn't want to go to the stupid prom anyway." She mumbled at last.

"Then why did you?" He asked calmly.

"Mom." She grunted. He chuckled softly.

"Ah."

X x x

After that, no more words were spoken. Sam tugged lightly on her hand and walked her back to the hotel. Catherine walked alongside him contentedly, watching the sidewalk beneath her feet.

"Why did you do it?" she asked at last.

"Do what?" He asked, looking down at her as they walked.

"Why did you take the baby away?" She stared up at him with sad blue eyes. He stopped walking, stuffing his hands in his pockets. It was the first time in seventeen years that she had ever seen the man looking vulnerable.

"Muggs." He shook his head sadly. "I wanted to protect you."

"From my own child?" She frowned, puzzled.

"From the backlash." He corrected. "Can you imagine what your life would be like now if you'd been raising a baby?" she looked down, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "It was better for everyone this way."

"Catherine." She looked up sharply. They had meandered their way back to the hotel and Lily was pacing outside in wait.

"She's fine Lil." Sam said, placing a hand on Catherine's shoulder.

"Oh Catherine." Lily shook her head in with that disapproving look in her eyes. Cath pouted miserably as her mother and Sam moved away from her to have a 'private chat'.

She sat on the concrete stairs and listened to the sound of laughter and music floating down from the penthouse suite floors above her.

She stared out at the sparkling lights on the strip, so akin to the lights twinkling in the party that she had ran out on. James wouldn't speak to her again, that was for sure. Her 'friends' probably didn't even notice that she had left. And once again, she managed to be the disappointment of the family.

With a moment to herself she pulled out the letter that had been burning a hole in her purse all night and opened it. She knew the words off by heart but she re-read them anyway.

"_She's so sweet."_

"_I'm sure she misses you."_

"_I'd love to see you again one day."_

"_Write me back and we can sort something out."_

"_You'll always be her mommy."_

She looked up at Sam and Lily, having an excited conversation a few feet away. She looked down at herself. She was a mess.

Her step-father had left, her mother barely spoke to her. The family had left the state for her sake, she'd changed schools and still couldn't make friends. She'd as good as failed school anyway. And tonight, what had she nearly done?

She'd tortured her family enough. With a heavy heart, she ripped up the letter; watching it lifted by the wind into the starless sky.

Carrie had more fun at her prom.


	24. Unconsciousness

"Well he's not talking, how's things in here?" Brass asked, wandering into the house. The guys shrugged at him.

"I lifted a few prints and Nick found a gun under the couch. Other than that, there's not much here." Warrick answered. Brass nodded.

"Uh huh. What's with her?" He gestured to Sara, who was stood in the adjoining dining room, her back to the guys, swaying slightly. Nick and Warrick frowned.

"Hey Sara, you okay?" Warrick called, but she didn't answer. The three men hurried over, rounding the table to stand in front of her. She was staring into space, so pale that her lips and face were matching shades of white.

They knew that Sara was not a huge fan of physical contact so Warrick was poised, ready to catch her without actually touching her and Nick had one hand ready to grab her arm if she fell.

"Sara, are you alright?" Brass asked clearly. Slowly, she nodded.

"I'm fine." She mumbled, though it was clearly a blatant lie. Brass reached out a hand and placed it on her forehead, feeling the heat emanating from her before he made contact with her burning skin.

"Get her out of here." The detective ordered softly. Nick and Warrick carefully took one side each and guided her out of the building. Once outside, Brass beckoned to a young officer who scampered over obediently. "Put her in my car and get her some water." He said, and the young man helped Nick to escort a dazed Sara to the car, where she was carefully placed in the backseat. Nick crouched down in front of her, holding her hand tightly in his own while the uniform scuttled off again. "What happened Rick?"

"We didn't even know anything was wrong 'til you came in." Warrick admitted, watching the scene from afar. "She was fairly quiet on the way here." He paused, thinking for a moment. "She didn't want to drive." That was strange, for Sara.

"Did she say anything about not feeling well?"

"Come on, when does Sara ever tell us things like that?" Warrick said, and Brass had to concede to his point.

The girl was nothing if not stubborn.

X x x

"I'm fine." She insisted for the millionth time. "It was just a dizzy spell. I'll be fine in a minute."

"I don't know, Sar. Maybe you should go back to the lab. We can take it from here." Nick suggested, already predicting her answer.

"I'm fine."

"Should we call Cath?" Warrick asked.

"No." Sara jumped in straight away. "It'll only worry her. I'm okay, really."

"Really?" Nick asked, looking her giving her a once over. She was still sat in the car, legs outside. Some colour had returned to her face, but she still didn't look one hundred percent. Brass ambled back over.

"How is she?"

"She's fine." Sara answered sullenly, eliciting a chuckle from the detective.

"Why don't I give you a lift back to the lab and the guys can finish up here?" He suggested, but she shook her head.

"No, I'll be okay to carry on." She tried to stand up but Nick grabbed her arms.

"Whoa, hey steady on there." He forced her back down. "You nearly collapsed in there. You're not going back inside, you're going home."

"I..."

"Nick's right." Brass interrupted. "You're coming with me."

"Yeah, do as you're told or we'll phone your mother." Warrick ribbed.

"I don't want her to know." She said firmly. Brass rolled his eyes.

"Okay. Fine. But you're still coming with me. Get in." He ordered. She swivelled round in her seat, somewhat unenthusiastically, and let him close the door.

"She'll be alright?" Warrick asked, concern etched into his features.

"Yeah, she'll be fine." Brass assured them. "You guys finish up here; I'll get her back to the lab."

The boys watched the car meander it's way though the mass of vehicles at the scene and disappear over a hill before finally shuffling back to work.

X x x

It took all of her bargaining techniques to allow Brass to let her stay at work, and the only reason he relented was because he thought it better she was where other people were rather than home alone. He tried and failed to find Catherine, but the blonde was no-where to be found and was not answering her cell.

So instead he left her in a lab and paid a little visit to Mandy Webster.

"Jim, what can I do for you?" She asked, not looking away from her screen.

"I need a favour." She glanced up, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Sara had a little incident at her scene – she claims it was just a dizzy spell and that she's fine now but I don't like leaving her alone." He explained. "She's in the lab across the hall; can you just keep an eye on her for me?"

"Sure, of course." She nodded, glancing past him at the lab across from her own. She could see Sara sat at the table, submerged in paperwork of some kind.

"Thank Mandy." Brass winked at her, casting a final glance at Sara on his way out.

X x x

"Hey, how're you feeling now?" Nick asked, making a detour via the break room once he spotted Sara inside. She didn't so much as acknowledge his presence in the room. She had a death grip on the counter, holding herself up, and was even paler than earlier, if that was even possible.

He bulleted to her side, hands ready to catch her like earlier. "Whoa, Sara you okay?" Warrick appeared not far behind Nick and spotted the pair instantly.

"Oh no. Again?" He asked, moving to her other side. "Does Catherine know yet?" He asked over Sara's head.

"Somebody call?" The blonde asked, drifting into the room, frowning softly at her phone. She glanced up and froze. "What's going on?" She demanded, rushing over.

"Did Brass get hold of you?" Warrick asked, but she barely heard him. Unlike the guys, Catherine didn't hesitate to put her hands on Sara, grabbing her firmly by the arms.

"Sara, honey?" She called, wrapping an arm around her back. The brunette's only response was to fall. Warrick lunged forwards and together they lowered her to the ground. Cath dropped to her knees, supported Sara on her lap. "Sara?" She called, her voice becoming panicked as she checked her pulse with shaky hands. "Baby, talk to me."

"I'll call 911." Nick said, already pulling his phone out, but before he could finish dialling Sara's eyes fluttered open.

"Hey, you alright?" Cath asked, one hand on Sara's chest to stop her from sitting up. Sara nodded numbly, closing her eyes again. Warrick was crouched down by her side, a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, that's the second time you've scared us today. What are you trying to do to us?" He joked softly, a worried glint in his eyes.

"Second?" Cath asked, meeting his gaze. The boys glanced at each other uneasily. Nick decided to take the bait.

"Sara had a dizzy spell at the scene. Brass brought her back here."

"She what?" Cath snapped. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Is she alright?" Mandy asked, darting into the room. "I was watching her, she disappeared. I only looked away for a few minutes..."

"Slow down." Warrick said, holding his hands up to calm the frantic lab rat.

"Brass asked me to keep an eye on her, I should have been paying more attention." She said, starting to get upset.

"You knew!" Cath barked. "Why the hell didn't anyone tell me?"

"Brass has been calling you for an hour. You weren't answering." Nick offered by way of excuse.

"I've been in a meeting. Why didn't you tell me straight away?" She clarified. The boys mumbled something inaudibly, but they were saved from answering by a soft voice.

"I asked them not to." Sara said, sitting up slowly. Cath gripped her round the waist, steadying her.

"Why?" Cath asked, putting her hair back into place tenderly.

"Because I didn't want you to worry." She tried to move but Catherine was having none of it.

"Hey, hold up." She held her back firmly. "I don't know where you think you're going lady; you need to see a doctor."

"I'm fine." Sara said. It seemed to be her mantra for the day. "It's not a big deal."

"Sara, you just collapsed." They pointed out.

"I know. It's okay, I know what it is." She tried to dodge their gaze but failed miserably.

"This happens a lot?" Catherine asked, maintaining her firm grip on the girl. Sara paused for a moment before finally nodding.

"Yeah. It's not a big deal. I've had it for years." She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, trying to disguise the nauseas feeling building in her stomach.

"Well, what is it?" Nick asked. She had hoped that question wouldn't come up. She could feel the four pairs of eyes watching her, waiting for an answer. With a sigh, she conceded defeat.

"It's just low blood sugar. I ... I've got it under control."

"Hypoglycaemia." Catherine said quietly. "Is it..."

"It's manageable." She said. "Sometimes, it just catches me out." She tried to make it sound simple, but it was obvious from the way in which Catherine was studying her face that this subject was not going to be dropped so easily.

"Do you need to go to the hospital or anything?" Mandy asked.

"No, thank you. I'll be fine in a few minutes." She assured them, although Catherine still seemed unconvinced.

"I'll take you home." The blonde said, and this time Sara didn't argue. The boys helped them both stand up, and Catherine let them guide the young woman to the couch. "Stay here, I won't be long." She gestured for Mandy to follow her out into the hall. "Can you find Grissom and fill him in." She requested, leaving the lab rat to go in search of the bug man, while Catherine went on a search of her own.

X x x

"Hey Doc." She greeted, poking her head inside the morgue.

"Lady Catherine." He acknowledged. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Hypoglycaemia." Concise, straight to the point.

"Low blood glucose. Generally associated with diabetes, but not always." He explained, not looking up from his work.

"What are the symptoms?"

"Where to start. Dizziness, breathing problems, nausea, apathy, difficulty speaking or lack of motor control. Sometimes even loss of consciousness, comas, seizures. At it's most serious, brain damage, even death." Cath swallowed hard, her eyes suddenly like saucers.

"How's it treated?"

"Depends why they have it. Sometimes medication, sometimes it's as simple as changing diet."

"And, how do people get it?"

"There are a hundred reasons. From birth, it can be premature birth, genetic from the mother, inborn conditions. In childhood, prolonged fasting ..." Catherine had stopped listening and was already out of the door. She had stopped paying attention at 'premature'.

X x x

Having collected her daughter from the break room, Cath decided that the way home was the best time to question her, since she couldn't escape.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I was a kid."

"Do you take medication?"

"Glucagon. It's a sugar based medication, keeps my glucose levels steady." And then came the question she had been waiting for.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you. It's not a big deal."

"Sara, you have a serious condition. That's the sort of thing a parent should know about their child."

Sara didn't answer, wrapping her arms around herself and staring quietly out of the window.

"Are you okay?" Cath asked at last when she glimpsed Sara's pale face.

"I'm fine. I never feel great after an episode."

"When you get inside you can have a lie down." Catherine answered, pulling into the driveway. She hadn't told Sara that 'home' meant her home, but when the brunette realised where she was she didn't contest it. Cath wrapped an arm around her and supported her up to the house, depositing her on the couch. She left Sara to go to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water only to find the girl curled up in a ball. Cath carefully placed the drink next to her and sat on the edge of the couch, brushing her hair aside. "You really don't feel well, huh?" Sara shook her head numbly. "Stay here. Get some rest babe, you'll be okay." She kissed Sara's forehead and draped a blanket over her, leaving her in peace.

X x x

Emerging from downstairs a little while later, she was surprised to see that she had a visitor. Sara was still curled up on the couch, asleep now, and sat in front of her on the coffee table was Lily.

"Mom?" Cath called softly, not wanting to wake Sara.

"What's wrong with her?" Lily asked, not taking her eyes off Sara.

"She collapsed at work." Cath explained, sitting next to her mom. "Turns out she's hypoglycaemic."

"Poor mite." Lily shook her head sadly, and Catherine couldn't help the dry laugh that escaped.

"I thought you wanted nothing to do with her."

"I never said that." Lily corrected. "I just needed some time to think."

"And?" Cath pressed, subconsciously reaching out a hand to stroke Sara's cheek. Lily watched the intimate motion carefully, noting how Sara responded ever so slightly by moving her head closer to Catherine's hand.

"And, I want to get to know my granddaughter."


	25. Hit and miss

**Sorry this isn't my best work, got a lot on my mind tonight. Next chapter will be up asap. Please review x**

**x x x x**

_September 12 1973_

She would be insulted if she wasn't so relieved that nobody had noticed that her clothes were getting bigger. Not that she needed to worry; her baby bump was remarkably small for seven months. She knew enough about pregnancy to know that it was too late to get rid of it now, but she had yet to figure out what she was going to do. She had been doing some background reading, courtesy of the library, and had been looking into the various options.

Adoption?

Surrogacy?

Leaving it outside a hospital?

She even considered taking it to the police station and claiming she found it, but after thinking about the logistics she decided that it was too risky. Someone might work it out.

Either way, one thing she was certain of. She could not tell her mother.

X x x

One thought that had been playing on her mind a lot recently was the little issue of childbirth. She didn't know what it was like, but she had it on good word that it was bad.

As the day loomed ever closer, horror stories filled her head. She started to wonder whether she had made a mistake by deciding to keep the baby. She had no idea what the birth was going to be like but she knew it was going to be messy and it would hurt like hell.

One day, sitting at the breakfast table while her mom flitted about the kitchen doing whatever she did on her day off, curiosity got the better of her.

"Mom," Catherine questioned, "what's it like, having a baby?" Lily whirled on her, one eyebrow raised. "It's for a biology assignment." The teenager covered quickly. Well, she wasn't really lying, was she?

"Oh." Lily nodded, placated. "Well, it hurts." She stated bluntly. Cath swallowed hard.

"How much?" She asked tentatively.

"A lot." Lily continued to add to Cath's fears. "But," she continued after a moment. "When it's all over and the baby's born, it's the best feeling in the world." She bent down and kissed Catherine's head softly before taking her cereal bowl to wash. Catherine thought about this for a moment.

"Do you regret it?" She asked at last.

"What?"

"Having kids." Lily didn't even hesitate to answer.

"Oh no. I love you and your sister more than the world." She insisted. "Even if you are turning me grey." She joked, ruffling her daughter's hair as she drifted past, disappearing into the lounge to continue her cleaning spree.

Subconsciously, Catherine rested a hand on her stomach.

X x x

She didn't know whether she'd pissed off some deity or the universe just had it in for her, but it was just her misfortune that her mother had started checking her timetable and the school had started phoning home if she didn't attend. To add salt to that wound, today she had gym class. And this time, she had run out of excuses.

Stood as far away from anyone else as she could get, she practically climbed into her locker to get changed. She changed into her shorts first, leaving her thick jumper on for as long as possible. When she finally had to remove it, she whipped it off and pulled her t-shirt on over her tank-top as hurriedly as humanly possible. Tucked in it highlighted her bump more so she left it loose, and hoped to God that she wasn't expected to be upside down at all today.

Mercifully, it was not gymnastics, so no hanging upside down for her today. The downside of that was, it was dodge ball. And dodge ball meant balls flying with great speed at her general stomach area.

For the first half hour she was doing great. Never had she dodged so many balls.

It was towards the end of the class that it all went pear-shaped. One of the lads, a big guy who was renowned for his athletic ability, apparently got fed up of a small cocky guy that had been dodging his aims all class and hurled it full force at the kid. Unfortunately for Cath, he wasn't only cocky he was quick too and ducked easily out of the way. The ball came hurtling towards her so fast she didn't know which way to duck. So she froze. It took her out from the right hand side, sending her sprawling to the ground with a grunt of pain.

The whistle blew and the class was dismissed, but Catherine couldn't move.

"Get up Flynn." Coach Jackson yelled, standing over her. Slowly she picked herself up, stumbling her way back to the changing rooms. "Get a shower and straight to next lesson girls!" He called through the door, making her wince at the voice.

Shower? Don't think so.

She sat on the bench, catching her breath back after it had been knocked out of her. Stiffly, she started to get dressed, opting to pull her sweater over her Phys Ed. T-shirt rather than take it off. She gathered her things and departed for her next class, English thankfully (no great physical exertion required) but for the remainder of the day, and the days to come, she had a horrible feeling that the blow had done some form of damage to the baby. Something just didn't feel right. She was convinced that she was going to lose it, with just a month to go.

However, as she was to find out in 4 short days time, the blow had done quite the opposite.


	26. Help you, help me

**Hi all, sorry for the delay. is playing up. Anyways, hope you enjoy x**

**x x x x**

"Mom?" Cath asked thoughtfully. "Did Sara ever go to hospital after she was born?"

"What do you mean?" Lily asked over coffee, having finally dragged Catherine into the kitchen and away from Sara.

"When Sam took her away, did he take her to the hospital?" she looked up, seeking out her mother's gaze with fervent blue eyes. Lily sighed, placing her mug down carefully.

"Cathy, I know where this is going." She reached out and took Catherine's hand. "Whatever condition Sara has, it's not your fault." She promised.

"She was very early mom." Cath said, tears starting to build in her eyes. "What if something I did when I was pregnant caused that?"

"Catherine, listen to me. You didn't do anything to cause this." Lily assured her. "Sara is fine, she's a beautiful healthy girl and she is so lucky to have you." Catherine dropped her gaze, trying to stop herself from crying.

"Cath?" A confused voice mumbled quietly from the doorway. The two women turned to where Sara was leaning against the doorframe. Her face had paled and one hand reached out to balance herself on the counter.

"Hey honey, you okay?" Cath asked gently, materialising by Sara's side in a heartbeat. She gripped her arms and guided her over to the chair while Lily got her a glass of water.

"What time is it?" The brunette mumbled, accepting the drink.

"It's early honey. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm fine." She nodded numbly. Cath looked at Lily, her eyes alive with worry. Lily, however, looked the epitome of calm.

"Do you need your medication, or perhaps something to eat?" She asked softly, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. Sara shrugged, sipping her water. "Maybe some toast?" she tried again, not really giving Sara a chance to object. Catherine watched in awe as Lily took control of making her something to eat, not in the slightest bit frantic. Cath sat down next to Sara, brushing her hair aside and stroking her cheek tenderly.

"You alright babe?" She asked softly. Sara nodded.

"Sorry I didn't tell you." She offered quietly, but Cath shook her head.

"It's okay. I know now." She placed a hand on Sara's forehead. "You're very warm." She commented.

"I'll be fine." The girl repeated. Lily placed a plate in front of her and stroked her hair sweetly.

"Here, eat this. You'll feel better." Sara picked up the food and nibbled it slowly, not really interested in it. Cath watched her closely, thinking back to Doc Robbins' words.

"Are you nauseous?" Sara nodded, closing her eyes briefly. Cath stood up, dragging her hand across Sara's shoulder as she moved away from her. She stood close to Lily so that only the two of them could hear what was being said. "What do I do?"

"Let her eat then take her upstairs and let her sleep it off." Lily suggested calmly. "She'll be fine in a few hours."

"And if she's not?" Cath pressed, but Lily just patted her arm softly.

"Catherine, she'll be okay. Stop fussing." She chastised, moving back to Sara's side. Catherine bit her lip thoughtfully.

X x x

When Catherine went to check on Sara later, she was surprised to find her sat on the bed reading with one hand and scratching with the other. When Cath entered she looked up and smiled.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Catherine asked, noting her rubbing her arms.

"Nothing, I get this rash sometimes." Sara shrugged. "Has your mom gone?"

"Yeah, yeah she's gone. Let me see." Cath sat down and rolled Sara's sleeve up, inspecting the 'rash'. "Honey this looks like eczema. And this won't help." She clamped down on her hand before she could rub it again. "Stay here." The blonde disappeared, returning a moment later with a tube of cream. "You're not allergic to anything are you?" She asked before unscrewing the cap when Sara confirmed she wasn't.

"What is it?" the young woman asked, scrunching her nose up at it.

"Eczema cream. Lindsey used to get it all the time. That's probably why you get it." She rubbed the cream gently into Sara's arms. She was surprised that Sara sat still and let her, especially when she rolled up her jeans and allowed her to apply it to her legs. "Any other ailments you'd like to tell me about?" she asked while she let her fingers gently massage the cream into Sara's skin.

"No."

"Good." Cath smiled, putting the tube on the table and smiling at Sara softly. "While we're on the subject, how do you feel now?"

"Better." Sara nodded. "It just takes a while sometimes."

"You mentioned medication?"

"Yeah, glucose tablets twice a day – morning and evening. And if it's a serious episode, glucagon injections, but that's rare." She tried to brush it off but Cath was not going to let that happen.

"How rare? I mean, how often do you have episodes like that?"

"Not very. Normally I see them coming, but sometimes they take me by surprise. It's usually only if I forget my meds." Cath nodded, giving her daughter a once over. She looked better than she had earlier, but that did not appease Cath's fears entirely. She reached out and stroked Sara's cheek with the back of her hand.

"You scared me." She admitted. "I didn't know what to do."

"I'm sorry." Sara mumbled, watching Cath's hand out of the corner of her eye as it moved from her cheek to her forehead, then brushing her hair aside.

"It's okay. Just, no more surprises like that okay?"

"I'll do my best, I'm not promising anything."

X x x

Lindsey practically danced through the doorway when she found out that Sara was here again. And despite Catherine's warning that she hadn't been feeling well earlier, the twelve year old still launched herself at her sister the moment she saw her.

"Can we watch a movie tonight?" she asked instantly. Sara laughed and looked at Catherine, with the girl still hanging off her.

"Maybe later Linds." Cath answered. "Go put your stuff in your room and then come down for dinner." The little blonde scooted off and Sara followed Cath into the kitchen.

"You know I'm not an invalid, I can help." Sara said, offering her services for the millionth time.

"Nope." Cath repeated, forcibly seating her at the table. "You're on rest today." She tossed an apple at Sara and went back to cooking. "Eat that."

"But dinners nearly ready." Sara frowned.

"I know. You need to eat more." Sara stared at her back, a puzzled expression on her face. She placed the apple on the table and watch Catherine move swiftly around the kitchen. She seemed to have quite a knack for multi-tasking. Every time she drifted past the table she seemed to feel the need to touch Sara; either a soft squeeze of the shoulder, or running her fingers through her hair, or just a hand on the arm. She continued with these little unconscious demonstrations of affection until Lindsey came scuttling downstairs and threw herself into a chair and shuffled it closer to Sara's.

X x x

As soon as Lindsey finished eating she excused herself to go do her homework. Catherine waited until she left before starting to chuckle.

"What?" Sara asked, bemused.

"You know the only reason she wants to do her homework is because she thinks we can watch a movie after that." Sara smiled, understanding. Cath's laughter died down and she watched Sara continue to eat contentedly. A stubborn strand of hair had fallen into her eyes and Catherine reached out and tucked it behind her ear. Sara paused, her fork half way to her mouth. "I'm sorry, I'll stop." Cath retracted her hand again, but Sara just rolled her eyes and bit back a smile.

"No you won't." She said, going back to her food nonchalantly. Cath chewed the inside of her cheek.

"When you've finished I'll get you something for dessert."

"It's okay, I'm good." Sara said, but Cath insisted.

"Tough. You're having dessert."

X x x

"You need to start eating meat." Cath commented randomly, to which Sara scoffed.

"Not likely."

"It'll improve your blood sugar levels." Sara pursed her lips, not taking her eyes off her book.

"Is that what this is about?" She asked curiously. Cath raised an eyebrow.

"What?" She tried to ask innocently.

"This force-feeding regime you've got going on." Sara half-joked. Catherine faltered for a moment.

"I just want to help. I did some research on it earlier." She sat down and reached out for Sara's hand. "There are a lot of things that can be done to help."

"I don't need help. I've been doing fine so far." The brunette pointed out.

"Sara, this is a serious condition." Cath said, trying to find a way of saying how she felt, but there was only one thing she could say. "I'm worried about you." Sara put down her book and looked carefully at Catherine.

"That's sweet, really. But I'm fine." She promised sincerely. Cath smiled sadly.

"I know." She stood up and kissed Sara's cheek softly. "But I'm still going to worry."

X x x

She opened the door a crack, then a little further. Sara was sleeping soundly, curled up on her side in bed. Cath resisted the temptation to touch her this time, and went straight for her bag.

She unzipped it as quietly as she could, trying not to wake the slumbering girl. Once inside, she began carefully pulling things out until she found what she was looking for.

It looked like a little first aid kit, until you opened it up and inside were numerous vials and syringes and sterilising wipes. She clicked the case closed again, making a mental note of what it looked like. Next, she headed to the bedside table, where she found a little bottle of glucose pills. Casting a final glance at Sara's peaceful face, she slipped the pills in her pocket and crept back out.

She couldn't control Sara's diet, but she could make sure Sara never forgot her medication again.


	27. Wild horses

**Sorry it's not as long as the others, but hope you enjoy anyway. Let me know what you think x**

**x x x x**

_Summer 1978_

It was the first time she had returned to California since her family left five years earlier. She had left Vegas at 17 and headed north with Bobby, but deep down she knew it was never going to last and inevitably after a month together in Chicago they broke up. She had had a few flings, bussed a few tables but sooner or later she had to leave and had been working her way south ever since.

Which was how she ended up sat on a park bench just outside San Francisco one sunny afternoon in August. And that was when she saw her.

She was perfectly happy, engrossed in her book, when a little pattering of feet made her tear her eyes away from the pages. As she looked up a little girl with dark curls, her trainers kicking dust up behind her, tripped and fell. Acting on pure instinct, Cath lunged forward and caught the child around the stomach before she hit the floor. She set her back on her feet, holding her arms gently. She glimpsed the girl's pale face behind her dark locks and her breath caught in her throat. Dark eyes peeped up at her and the girl, only about four or five, grinned shyly before scuttling off again.

Catherine tossed her book onto the bench and stood up, squinting against the bright sunlight to get a better look at the child. It couldn't be...

X x x

She couldn't tear her eyes away. The little girl was currently attempting to scale a climbing frame with limited success due to her small arms. Catherine looked around. No one seemed to be taking any notice of the child and there was no one around that resembled her.

As she watched, her mind spinning, the little brunette slipped and tumbled off the frame. Catherine jumped to her feet, expecting someone to rush over and hug her and fuss over her like parents did. But no one moved. The child picked herself back up, brushed herself off and launched herself back at the climbing frame for another attempt. This time her tiny hands gripped the bars tightly and she pulled herself up, clambering onto the top and letting her legs dangle through the bars, a triumphant little smile on her face.

She turned, her deep brown eyes catching Catherine's gaze and a bright beam broke out on her tiny face. Cath tried to smile back, but she was frozen on the spot.

It was the eyes. Even from here she could see that they had that dark Mediterranean look about them, tinted with a bright childish sparkle. She'd know those eyes anywhere. The girl leant back, tilting her head up to the sun, letting it burn down on her face. She looked perfect.

Cautiously, Catherine approached the play area, hovering near by while trying not to look suspicious. Slowly, constantly looking around for some sign of parents, she made her way over to the frame. She only intended on getting a better look, but as she got close enough to see her clearly, the temptation was too much. She stepped closer still, her body already a million miles ahead of her mind.

The little girl looked up sharply, twisting around behind her to look at someone. There was a guy she hadn't noticed before lingering against a tree, cigarette in hand. Catherine couldn't get a good look at the guy but the little girl seemed to know who he was as she scrambled back down and started running towards him. As she jumped off the frame, Catherine noticed something fall out of her pocket but the kid didn't notice. She latched onto the guys hand and walked away from Catherine.

The blonde debated following them, but decided against it. It was highly likely that the guy had taken her away because he'd seen her approaching, so stalking them might not be the best idea in the world.

And what was she going to do anyway? Although the temptation had been unbelievably great, she knew that snatching the kid would never work, even if she was damn sure that that was her little girl.

She walked over to the frame and crouched down beneath it, feeling the wood chips digging into her knees. There was a little pony, scuffed from years of play, sitting lonely in the chips. Catherine picked it up, brushing it off with her fingertips. It was faded purple and had a little dent on one side. She turned it over in her hands carefully. It crossed her mind to run after them to return it to its rightful owner, if just to get another look at the child, but they were long gone. So she stood up and slipped the toy into her pocket, keeping it safe.


	28. War and peace

**Making up for a short chapter with an extra long one :) Hope y'all enjoy **

**x x x x**

When Sara woke up, the first thing she reached for was her phone to check the time, followed by her meds...which were mysteriously missing.

She sat up, frowning as she glanced around the room curiously. She was sure that she had left them on the table. While she was puzzling this, Catherine waltzed in, cup of coffee and a glass of water in hand.

"Morning darling." She crooned, placing the mug on the bedside table and handed Sara the glass. To the brunette's surprise, Cath pulled a little white pill out of nowhere and placed it in Sara's hand.

Sara stared at it in surprise, while Catherine drifted around the bed and started tidying up obliviously.

"Where are my tablets?" Sara asked, still looking at the one in her hand bemusedly.

"Downstairs." Catherine answered bluntly. "You going to take that one?" She asked without looking up. Sara raised an eyebrow and swallowed the pill. "Good girl." Cath kissed her forehead as she took the glass of water from her and put it back on the table. "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." She declared, disappearing back into the hall.

X x x

Sara shuffled into the kitchen, wrapping her arms around herself. Catherine smiled brightly at her. Sara returned the gesture tentatively, glancing around the room.

"They're not in here." Catherine said as if reading her mind. She pulled a chair out and gestured for her to sit down.

"Where are they?"

"Safe." Cath promised, placing a plate in front of her. "I just want to make sure you're okay." She smiled, stroking her hair softly. Sara frowned, nodding slowly as she picked up a piece of toast thoughtfully.

"By stealing my medication?" There was no anger in her voice; she sounded more confused than anything.

"This way I can make sure you're not going to have another episode like yesterday." Cath sat down next to her daughter and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't think my heart could take another scare like that." She half-joked nervously. Sara pursed her lips and nodded, deciding to keep her previous thoughts to herself.

X x x

"Nicky?" Cath poked her head into his lab.

"Hey, mama Willows." He joked merrily, something the guys had taken to doing a lot recently. This time, she opted to ignore it.

"I need you to keep an eye on Sara for me while you're working with her tonight." She said, straight to the point.

"Oh, don't worry. She's fine." Nick assured her.

"I know. Just, check in on her. If anything happens, anything at all, let me know." She turned to leave but Nick's voice stopped her.

"Cath, I know you're worried about her, we all are. But, this might not be the best way to go about it." He tried to explain as tactfully as he could.

"What do you mean?" Catherine asked defensively.

"Come on, what do you think Sara would say if she knew you were asking me to spy on her and report back to you every time she gets a headache?" He said, offering a gentle smile to show that he wasn't trying to sound accusatory. However, his words fell flat.

"Just keep an eye on her."

X x x

"Sara?" Catherine repeated, louder this time. The brunette glanced up from her notes and smiled, before zoning back in on her work. Cath walked over and placed a hand on her forehead, which Sara chose to ignore. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Sara assured her, not tearing her eyes away from the page. Catherine lifted her chin up, searching her face.

"You look pale." She declared. Sara pulled back, freeing herself from Cath's grip and went back to reading.

"I'm fine, I promise." She assumed the blonde had believed her when she walked over to the sink and began making herself a drink, but unfortunately she assumed wrong.

"Here, eat this." Catherine placed a snack and a glucose drink in front of her. Sara looked up at her, trying desperately to keep control.

"Cath really, I'm fine. I'm not going to collapse."

"Just eat something, please." She perched on the edge of the table, her eyes pleading with Sara's.

"No, really. I'm not hungry."

"Sara..." Cath whined, but the brunette couldn't take it anymore.

"I said no." She snapped, dropping her folders onto the couch and stalking off.

"Sara, hon..." Cath stood up and reached for her arm, but she was too late. Sara was gone.

X x x

"Hey." Catherine said softly, sliding out of the door onto the roof.

"Hey." Sara echoed coolly, leaning against the railing.

"Everything okay?" Catherine asked awkwardly, edging closer.

"Fine." Sara said, keeping her back to the blonde. "Want to check my temperature to make sure?" Cath chewed her lip nervously.

"Okay, I overstepped. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you did." Sara agreed. She turned to face Cath, leaning her back against the rail. "What's going on Cath?"

"I just wanted to look after you." Cath mumbled apologetically.

"I know." Sara said sympathetically. "And I know you're only doing this because you care, but it just feels like I've lost all control of my life. I have lived perfectly fine on my own for ten years you know." She said, offering a half smile. Catherine returned it sadly.

"I know. I'm sorry." She stepped closer. "I didn't mean to take anything from you. I just..." she trailed off.

"What?" Sara pressed softly. Cath sighed.

"I feel guilty. I thought if I made sure nothing bad happened to you I could make up for it." She admitted. Sara frowned.

"For what?"

"I didn't know." Cath whispered sadly.

"How could you?" Sara asked, puzzled.

"No, you don't understand. It's my fault." She mumbled, swallowing hard. "When you were born, you didn't exactly get immediate medical attention."

"Cath..."

"You were very early, I ... I should have told someone, but..."

"Cath!" Sara called her, taking her mother's hands in her own. "It's not your fault." She emphasised each word carefully. Cath frowned, blinking back tears. "When I was a kid something happened, I lost a lot of weight." She explained vaguely. Catherine swallowed, her eyes searching Sara's face curiously.

"Your ... your parents." She filled in the blanks. "Sweetie I'm so sorry." She whispered. Sara pulled her into a hug, letting Catherine grip onto her tightly. The blonde nestled her face against Sara's neck, inhaling her soft scent. "I love you." She mumbled against her skin.

X x x

Having smoothed things over with Sara and eventually come to an agreement about how much Catherine was allowed to interfere, the blonde decided to kill two birds with one stone and made a call that she had been meaning to make for weeks.

She recognised him as soon as he walked through the door. She stood up, catching his attention. He glanced over her and a soft smile graced his aging features.

"Catherine." He greeted warmly. She smiled and they sat back down. She had purposefully picked a table in the far corner of the cafe, avoiding any chance for eavesdroppers.

"Martin, how have you been?" She asked awkwardly.

"Good, I'm good." He nodded. "You said you had something to tell me?" Evidently the pleasantries were over, she thought to herself.

"Yeah. I found her." She waited, gauging his reaction. At first he didn't react at all. Then, slowly, he ran a hand over his face.

"Wow." He said at last. "And she's..."

"She's fine." Cath answered. There was a long silence when neither said anything. Finally, Martin sighed.

"You know, I've done a lot of stupid things in my life, but that was one that I never forgave myself for." She looked up, surprised by this information.

"You regretted letting her get taken away?"

"Every day." He nodded sadly. "I always made the rules; I demanded respect, even when I knew I was barking up the wrong tree. And that stubbornness blinded me. I wanted to go back and change it all, but I couldn't do anything."

"So, why did you get so angry every time I mentioned her?" To her surprise, he chuckled dryly.

"Would you want to be reminded of your biggest mistake every day?" He asked rhetorically. "I know I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You were a kid and you made a mistake, but it was us, the adults, that made the bigger mistake."

Catherine didn't say anything. She hadn't really known why she wanted to tell Martin, to gloat she supposed. But now that she had, it felt good to hear someone acknowledge the wrongs done to her and her daughter. Martin shook his head, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

"You know, I never said it then, but that little girl really was gorgeous."

X x x

Catherine nudged Sara's bedroom door open with her foot and slipped inside, dropping the laundry basket on the bed. She knew that Sara spending so much time here was only temporary and sooner or later things could go back to how they were, but for now she was just enjoying have her girl back, and doing benign things like laundry made it feel as if Sara would be sticking around. A fantasy perhaps, but she didn't care. She noticed her box sat on the floor by the bed and picked it up. Sara must have been looking through it last night. Sat atop the box was the little purple pony. She smiled, remembering that day fondly, and picked it up. She sat him carefully on the bedside table, putting the box with the rest of the contents on the desk in the corner of the room.

When Sara walked in she was in the middle of putting her clothes away. The brunette stopped in the doorway and observed for a moment.

"What are you doing?" She asked at last.

"Laundry." Cath replied, smiling over her shoulder at her. When Sara remained in the doorway, shuffling uncomfortably, Cath paused. "I can stop if you want, It's just nice have the novelty of being able to take care of you." Sara shrugged.

"It's just weird, after taking care of myself for thirty years to have someone else doing it for me." She sat on the bed, letting Cath continue her work. As she flitted around her, Catherine picked up on Sara's mood.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sara answered glumly.

"I know something is. What's up?"

"Nothing, I'm okay."

"Is it me?" She guessed.

"No."

"Work?"

"No."

"I'm really good at this with Lindsey. But you're going to have to help me out here." Cath said with a pleading smile. For a moment Sara didn't say anything and Cath thought she was never going to get it out of her, when she spoke.

"I had an argument with my grandmother." Catherine pursed her lips.

"Ah. About?"

"She thinks I'm making a mistake, by spending time with you." Sara sighed. "She said, after what you did, I should forget about you and move on." Catherine clamped down on the feelings of anger surging through her blood.

"And what do you want to do?" She asked as neutrally as possible.

"I want to spend time with you, and Lindsey. But I don't know how to explain to her that it wasn't your fault. She won't listen to me." She looked up, seeking out her mother's gaze. "How do you think I should handle it?"

"Oh no, I'm not getting involved." He held up her hands. "I've disrupted your family enough." Something in the tone of her voice must have given her away, because Sara's brown eyes narrowed.

"What don't I know?" She asked suspiciously.

"What do you mean?" Cath shrugged, keeping her attention solely focused on folding clothes.

"You know something that I don't."

"I told you, I'm staying out of your family's dramas." The older woman reiterated.

"I answered your question." Sara pointed out. Catherine had to relent. She put the clothes down and turned the desk chair around and sat opposite Sara, who was waiting expectantly.

"This grandmother. Penny, right?" Sara frowned.

"Yeah. How'd you know that?"

"Because I've spoken to her."She answered bluntly. Sara's eyes widened.

"You called her?"

"Yeah." She turned to root through the box behind her and pulled out a little sliver of paper with a number on it. Gave Sara minute to read it, until recognition flashed across her face. "When Jack wasn't answering my letters I tracked him down at home, but your family had moved. A neighbour gave me that number, said she might know where they'd gone. You'll have been two months old, but it wasn't until a couple of months after that that I finally got up the nerve to call."

"And?" Sara pressed.

"No, that's all I'm going to say." Catherine held up her hands. "I don't want to cause any further ructions." She stood up but Sara caught her wrist.

"What did she say?" She begged. Cath sat back down slowly, holding Sara's hands in her own.

"She told me you'd gone to Italy." Sara's jaw dropped, her eyes like saucers. Cath shrugged despondently. "I gave up looking for you after that."

"She lied." Sara whispered angrily.

"She was looking out for her family." Cath contradicted, trying to catch Sara's eye. "She obviously loved you enough to lie." The brunette pulled her hands free and stood up. "What are you doing?" Catherine asked. Sara stopped in the doorway, turning back to her.

"I'm going to find out why the only person in my family I trusted lied to me." As she left, Catherine dropped onto the bed sadly, shaking her head. Once again she had messed up.

The only consolation was that this time she could be by her daughter's side to pick up the pieces.


	29. Third times a charm

**Hi guys. Got a busy weekend ahead so might not be an update until Monday I'm afraid, but hope this one can keep y'all going 'til then. Let me know what you think x**

**x x x x**

_April 1992_

Her heart pounded in her ears but she still heard the baby cry.

"Congratulations, it's a girl." She midwife beamed her at. Her head fell back onto the pillows, her breath slowly returning to normal. After a few moments a small, warm little creature was placed on her stomach.

"A girl." She repeated quietly, holding her baby close to her heart.

X x x

That night, she didn't sleep. She couldn't take her eyes off the child sleeping peacefully in her arms. In the hours that had passed she had studied everything about her, burning the facts into her memory. She couldn't help but compare her two children, and the comparisons were many: this baby was fair, with bright blue eyes. She was bigger than Catherine's first daughter, but then that was no surprise. And she was placid. Despite Bella being so early, Cath recalled her being a writing little thing, wriggling about in her arms. Lindsey on the other hand, she was perfectly content to lay still and let Cath search her tiny body for any sign of birth marks or freckles.

The door opened. Three times a nurse had taken the baby from her, placed her back in the crib and instructed Catherine to get some sleep, and three times Cath had got up and carried the child back to the bed. This time the nurse didn't even bother. She checked Cath's vitals and left without saying a word.

Catherine smiled down at her baby girl.

"I love you." She whispered. "And this time, no one's going to take you away from me." She touched her nose lightly, causing the baby to sniffle and nuzzle her chest. "You're going to stay right here, where I know you're safe." Careful not to wake her, Cath lifted the baby up and kissed her softly. "I'm never going to let you out of my sight."

X x x

True to her word, for the first few weeks of baby Lindsey's life, she refused to let anyone touch her unless she was there to supervise. Other than Eddie, Lily, Nancy and the midwife, no-one got their hands on her.

"Come on Catherine, just one night." Eddie begged.

"No. I told you, I'm not leaving her."

"She'll be fine with your mom." He insisted for the millionth time. "You need to get out of the house, Cath." He hovered behind her as she bent over Lindsey's bassinette and stroked her soft hair. Eddie crouched down next to the sleeping baby, looking up at Catherine hopefully. "Look, see. She's asleep. And she would want you to go out and have fun."

"For the last time Ed, I am not leaving her."

"Yes you are." Lily barked from behind her. Cath rolled her eyes.

"Oh great, you calling in re-enforcements."

"Cathy just because you're a mother, doesn't mean you have to stop having a life." Lily nudged her aside and repeated her earlier motion of stroking her head. "She'll be fine with me."

"She has a routine; I don't want to break it." Cath persisted.

"Catherine, I have raised children you know." Her mother pointed out. "I can manage one night."

"See, everything will be fine." Eddie grinned. "So, why don't you go and put on your best dress and let's hit the road." He ushered her down the hall, despite her desperate attempts to get back to the lounge.

X x x

"Alright, have fun you guys." Lily waved them off from the doorway. Eddie slammed his door and Catherine was about to follow suite when a disgruntled cry emanated from the house. Cath was half out of the car in a shot but Eddie grabbed her by the arm, hauling her back in.

"Let your mom deal with it. It's your night off." She watched, desperation on her face, as Lily went back inside and the house, and her baby, began to fade into the distance.

X x x

Catherine wasn't sure whether her husband was ignoring her on purpose or was just oblivious to her mental torture as he nodded his head in time with the music. In the back of her mind she was mad at him for dragging her to this stupid gig of his against her will, but mainly she was pining for her little girl.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Eddie yelled in her ear. She didn't answer. All she wanted to do was to go home and hold her baby.

Ten minutes, and two almost identical songs later she had had enough.

"Ed." She tugged his arm. "I'm going to the bathroom." She shouted in his ear over the music. He waved a hand at her absently which she took to mean as he had heard her or he didn't care.

Manoeuvring her way through the crowd, she practically fell out of the door, stumbling blindly into the cool spring air. She flagged a passing cab and hurled herself into the back seat.

"Where to ma'am?" The young driver asked over his shoulder. Her answer was simple.

"Take me home."

X x x

Eddie stalked into the house, barely stopping himself from slamming the front door. Ignoring Lily entirely, he made his way to the small room they had converted to a nursery. And as suspected, Catherine was curled up on a chair, Lindsey in her arms. Both had their eyes closed.

"So much for a night off." He grumbled. Cath cracked one eye open.

"I couldn't help it." She mumbled sleepily.

"One night Cath, that's all I wanted. For us to have a night where we didn't have to be parents." He knelt next to her.

"Maybe I want to be a parent." She replied. "If you don't then now's the time to say." Despite her drowsy demeanour Eddie knew an ultimatum when he heard one. With a sigh he picked himself up a stormed back out of the house, not even bothering to go quietly this time.

He would come back, they both knew he would. But that was not the point.

The point was the barrier had been set. For years to come they would play this game over and over. And no matter how many times Lindsey ran to him, the inevitable was that Catherine had been right. She had already lost two children. She was never going to let anyone take this one away from her.


	30. Old flames, new sparks

**Long weekend over, back to normality. Thank you all for being so patient. New chapter :) Let me know what you think x**

**x x x x**

It had started as an ordinary shift, on an ordinary day, but how quickly all that was to change.

As she rounded the corner en route to the front desk, her heart stopped. She would know that face anywhere.

"Jack?"

X x x

He turned, dark eyes seeking out the startled voice. His hair was long, dark, falling over his shoulder in loose waves.

Like his daughter's.

"Catherine." He stated, his voice warmer than she expected. Abandoning her folders on the counter she walked over to him, studying his lean figure, hidden beneath ripped jeans, fastened with a cord belt, dark shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and decorated with an large pendant. He had a bandana around his head, taming his unruly hair. With his smouldering look and his careless smile, he looked as attractive as ever.

"Jack." She repeated in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" He looked around her, peering curiously down the hall.

"I've been sent on a mission." He answered enigmatically.

"She's not here." Cath answered his silent question. His face dropped slightly. "A mission?"

"Grams sent me." He explained, leaning casually against the counter to Judy's dismay. "She's been trying to get a hold of Sara, said she stopped answering. So she found me." Cath nodded, looking away.

"Yeah, they had a fight." She mumbled. He nodded, obviously not interesting in the details, or he already knew them.

"So, you found her huh?" He asked, that lopsided smile creeping back onto his face. Cath laughed nervously.

"Yeah. Wouldn't you know it; she was in the last place I looked."

"How's it going, with you two?"

"It's okay. It's harder for her I think, getting used to the idea. It's a big thing to take in."

"Yeah well, I'm sure we can both relate." They shared a moment of reminiscence that was broken by a baffled voice from the door.

"Jack?"

X x x

Nick nearly walked into Sara's back as she stopped dead in the doorway, staring at Catherine and a tall, dark-haired guy who were chatting in reception. They both turned to the stunned brunette simultaneously. Nick flicked his gaze between the three of them, sensing the tension between the group, and decided to leave them to it.

"I'll go put this in evidence." He said, taking the box from an oblivious Sara's arms. He slipped silently past Catherine who sent him a grateful smile.

"Hey Bell." Jack said warmly, walking over to embrace Sara. She did not return the hug, staring between the two of them suspiciously.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, stepping away from them both. He sighed, sensing that this was the best welcome he was going to get.

"Grams sent me."

"I'm not talking to her." Sara stated before he could continue, folding her arms defensively across her chest. Catherine stepped up to her, placing a hand on her arm.

"Why don't we take this somewhere else?" She suggested softly. She watched Sara's eyes dart around the room, suddenly remembering where she was. She nodded, dropping her arms to her sides.

"Cool. I found a great little bar..." Jack started to say but one look from Sara silenced him. "Or you guys can pick."

X x x

Deciding that the ensuing conversation would require privacy, Cath gave Jack her address and they agreed to meet there in half an hour.

And sure enough, when she pulled up with a very silent Sara, he was leaning against the door, cigarette in hand.

"You should quit." Sara said bluntly, taking it from him and tossing it aside as she stalked into the house. Jack raised an eyebrow at Catherine, who merely shrugged and followed her inside.

"She'll calm down." Cath whispered to him as Sara disappeared into the kitchen. To her surprise, Jack laughed.

"You don't know her that well do you?" He joked, making himself comfortable on the couch. They could hear Sara clattering about in the kitchen and decided to leave her there for a while. Cath sat next to Jack, studying his face carefully. He looked younger than his age, laugh lines framing his eyes and mouth. Sara had definitely taken after him; you could see it in all of his features, but most of all it was in his eyes.

"Why did you send the letter?" She asked at last. He lifted his gaze slowly to meet hers.

"Why didn't you reply?" He countered. She was momentarily taken aback but hid it behind a quick remark.

"I asked first." He laughed again; that smooth, easy laugh.

"Alright." He nodded, turning to face her. "I sent it, hoping that you would reply. Your turn." He quirked an eyebrow, but she simply mimicked his action, expecting more. He sighed.

"Alright, you want to know the truth?" His dark eyes had taken on another emotion, one she couldn't read. She nodded eagerly. "Dad was getting worse. He drank, he got angry, and he took it out on us. My brother and I could take it, but I never thought he'd start on her." He glanced briefly towards the kitchen, his voice cracking slightly as he did so. "When he did, I had to get her out of there. I thought maybe if I could get the two of you together, you wouldn't be able to let her go." He finished softly.

"I probably wouldn't have." She conceded.

"But you never replied." He looked at her beneath his eyelashes.

"I couldn't put my family through any more." He watched her for a moment before nodding imperceptibly to say he accepted that. She was surprised when he continued talking.

"I tried to take her with me when I left, but mom wouldn't hear of it. No matter what mistakes she made, she loved Sara. She wouldn't hurt her." His voice took on a defensive tone as his spoke about Laura, and Catherine felt the need to agree.

"I know." She said softly.

"She wouldn't let me take her. But I had to go. So I left her there. In that house." This time his voice caved in and the tears that had been silently building started to trickle down his tanned skin. "I hated myself for it every day. And after what happened ... I tried to find her but I knew that if I came back I'd have to face the music. I couldn't do that so I stayed away and left her to deal with it all alone." His words were coming out in short gasps between his sobs. Catherine shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting him cry.

As she comforted him she glanced up, catching a glimpse of Sara hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, tears spilling down her own pale cheeks. The blonde offered her a sympathetic smile, still rocking Jack against her as he finally let go.

X x x

Once Jack fell asleep, Catherine draped a blanket over him and crept upstairs. Despite what the brunette might think she had seen Sara sneak up here. She found the girl sitting cross-legged on the bed, back to the door, holding the little toy pony in her hands. Cath sat down behind her on the bed, waiting for her daughter to speak in her own time.

"I never knew that." She mumbled at last. Cath reached out and ran her fingers lightly up and down Sara's arm. "He tried to save me."

"He loves you." Cath said. Sara nodded, not looking up.

"I'm sorry for earlier." She mumbled. Cath rested her head against Sara's shoulder.

"You shouldn't be. You have every right to be upset and angry. This is a lot to take in." She waited, but Sara didn't speak. She kissed her cheek softly and stood up. "Try to get some sleep."

X x x

She wandered out of the kitchen, coffee in hand, just as Jack was awakening.

"Hey." He said, his voice hoarse from sleep. She handed him a mug and sat down on the opposite side of the couch. He took a long mouthful, letting the hot drink sooth his throat and arouse his voice. "Sara?" He asked at last.

"She's okay." Cath answered. "She's upstairs." He nodded, settling himself back into the cushions. They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, nursing their coffee cups in cupped hands.

"I should.."  
"Maybe..." They both began at once, laughing nervously. Jack gestured for her to continue.

"Maybe she'll be ready to talk now." She said.

"Yeah." He agreed. "Maybe if we both talk to her, together." He sent her a sideways glance that she couldn't fail to notice. She bit her lower lip nervously.

"We really shouldn't." She said at last. "I mean, you and me..." They both knew that they weren't talking about their daughter anymore.

"Yeah, no. You're right." He agreed. "That would just be weird."

"Yeah, I don't think Sara's quite ready for another shock like that." Cath joked.

"Another shock like what?" Sara yawned, making her way downstairs.

"Nothing love." Cath shook her head, changing the subject. "Coffee?" Sara nodded absently, shuffling into the kitchen and dropping into a chair at the table. Catherine and Jack shared a look and followed her in. "Breakfast?"

"No, I'm fine." Sara mumbled sleepily. Cath smiled.

"Please?" She tried again sweetly. Sara looked up tiredly, resting her head on her hand.

"I've gone 30 years without breakfast; you're not going to change my habits now."

Jack, who had acquired a newspaper from somewhere and was idly flicking through the pages without taking it in, rolled his eyes.

"Do what your mother says, Bell."

X x x

"Sara baby, can we talk to you?" Cath sat down opposite her daughter on the coffee table, while Jack chose to stand behind the blonde. Sara closed her book and looked between them expectantly.

"You need to phone Grams." Jack began. She looked away.

"Why?"

"Because she's worried about you. You stopped answering her calls, she was concerned."

"She knew I was okay." Sara countered.

"How?" Jack asked. Catherine could sense the Italian temper flaring up between them and stepped in.

"I know that you're upset with her and you're angry. You're allowed to be. But she was only looking out for you. She did what she thought was best for her family." She pleaded. "She took you in, she loved you, she protected you."

"She lied to me."

"Come on Sar," Jack perched on the table next to Cath. "She loves you so much. You want her to go to her grave thinking that her favourite granddaughter hates her?" Finally they saw something soften in Sara's face. Catherine picked up her hands, holding them in her own.

"She made a choice, that she thought was best for you. Maybe it wasn't the right one, but it shows that she would do everything to keep you in her life. She didn't want to lose you." Sara flicked her gaze between her parents, her dark eyes melting. Eventually, she stood up and walked away, grabbing the phone on the way.

Left alone, Cath and Jack shared a successful little smile.

"So, I gotta ask. Why do you care whether they make up?" Jack asked. Cath shrugged guiltily.

"I feel bad. It was my fault they fell out."

"How'd you figure that?"

"I was the one who told Sara what Penny said to me years ago. About you guys moving to Italy." Jack chuckled softly and interlinked their fingers.

"It wasn't your fault. Grams and Bell were always fighting; this would have come out eventually." She didn't want to admit it, but that actually made her feel better.

"Bell. Have you always called her that?" She had to ask.

"Actually, I believe you called her that." He smiled broadly at her. She smiled back.

"You did get my letters."

"I got a couple. Mom cottoned on and started intercepting them. Bella, it suits her." He said, staring at her through the door as she paced on the phone.

"You gave me the idea." Cath sent him a sideways smile. "Beautiful girl, huh?" She joked. He chuckled.

"Yeah." He agreed, squeezing her hand tightly. "Our bella ragazza."


	31. Changing seasons

_13__th __September 2000_

"Sara Sidle?" Catherine repeated.

"Who's that?"

"She's a CSI out of San Francisco; she's a friend of mine." Grissom explained. Catherine didn't really hear the rest of it, too worked up to care.

"Great, that's just what we need; someone sniffing around." She spat bitterly.

X x x

"Do you know where I can find Catherine Willows?" The voice was harmless enough, but she still wasn't going to play nice.

"She's out in the field." She could sense without looking up that the woman had not left and finally relented. She looked up with a sigh. "Let me guess: Sara Sidle." A half smile twitched on the slender brunette's lips.

"I know who I am; I think you're a little confused." Catherine let the joke slide, merely raising an eyebrow at her.

"If you think you're taking my case, forget it." She snapped. To her utmost surprise, Sara didn't leave. Slowly, she turned and closed the door. She stepped closer to Catherine, who was waiting expectantly.

"Look, we can stand here and argue, or we can get out there and find out who did this to Holly Gribbs." She paused for a moment. "Two sharp women are better than one." Catherine stared at her for a moment. Most people would have walked away, but this one...

"Pager." She held up the bag by her side. "Found at the crime scene." As the brunette leant over her shoulder she could faintly smell her shampoo. Coconut. The trace turned up to be useless.

"So look, you seem to have everything under control here. Where can I find Warrick Brown?"

"Try one of the casinos on Blue Diamond Road." Cath answered, staring at the useless pager in her hands. Before Sara got out of the door, Cath called her back. "Oh, I'll page you with any information." She saw that same smile appear on the younger woman's lips before she slipped outside.

Well, she had to give her something for making the effort.

X x x

She knew before she answered the phone. Without even knowing she knew that it was Grissom and what he was going to say.

She didn't make it. Holly Gribbs died on the operating table.

She had tried to put the thought to one side and focus on the task at hand but it was proving impossible, so she decided to take a break.

She was leaning against the counter in the break room, rubbing her temples, when she heard footsteps approach.

"Mind if I get a soda?" She looked up, a puzzled frown on her face, until she realised she was blocking the fridge. She moved aside, letting Sara get her drink. As they drifted into silence, a sharp beep sounded. They both checked their pagers and shrugged.

"Oh, God." Cath said, launching herself at the evidence bag she had tossed onto the table. She scrambled for her phone, dialling the number.

"Hello?" a gravelly voice queried.

"Uh, hey." She answered, not sure exactly how she was going to swing this. Sara's curious eyes on her suggested she didn't have any ideas either.

"Who's this? I just dialled my own damn beeper."

"Uh huh. It's my beeper now, I found it." An unfamiliar southern twang had crept its way into her voice.

"It ain't your beeper girl, it's mine. I do a lot of business on that beeper."

"What kind of business?" She saw Sara sit down beside her out of the corner of her eye, pen and paper in hand in case anything interesting came up. 'Good girl' Cath though to herself.

"You know – slinging a little something-something."

"Oh, a little something-something. Or maybe a little bling-bling?" Sara frowned, waiting expectantly for some useful information.

"So what you know about some bling-bling?"

"Well invite me over to your crib, baby and you might find out."

"It's on. Three Aces Motel room 202." She repeated the address for Sara's benefit, watching her scribble it down with a satisfied smile. Hanging up, she frowned softly.

"Did I just do that?"

X x x

"Let's go home." Grissom said as they watched the car drive away.

"No, no I think I'm going to go for a drink. Anyone else?" Nick asked.

"Yeah, I could certainly use one." Brass agreed. Grissom nodded, casting a glance at Warrick, who was still watching the car drive away.

"Yeah, it's probably healthier than anything else I had planned." The dark-skinned man mumbled.

"Sara?" Nick asked. "You joining us?" She shook her head.

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to head back to the hotel."

One by one they all dispersed, until it was just Sara stood alone under the rising Las Vegas sun.

X x x

"Funny, doesn't look like a hotel." Catherine's voice startled Sara. She looked up, offering a weak smile to the blonde.

"You not going for drinks?" Sara asked.

"No, I don't feel like being social right now." Cath sat next to her on the sidewalk, resting her head in her hands morosely. "What are you still doing here?"

"Thinking." Sara answered enigmatically. There was a long silence and Cath thought that was all she was going to get from the young woman, when she spoke again. "Grissom's asked me to stay." Cath looked up.

"Are you going to?"

"I don't know." She sighed. "The idea of a new start is tempting, but I don't know if this is the place for me." She looked at Catherine, her dark eyes searching for something. "What do you think?" Cath shook her head.

"Oh no, the last person who took my advice was Holly." The atmosphere suddenly got heavy with the mention of her name. "You don't want to take my word right now."

"I trust you." Sara said at last. Cath looked at her. She reminded her of someone so much. Dark hair, dark eyes, young eager expression. They looked so alike...

Everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes you get a chance to redeem yourself.

Her advice had already gotten one innocent person killed today. Was Sara her chance to make up for that?

"Stay."


	32. Farewells and fallouts

"My round. Same again?" Jack stood up, stretched and ambled over to the bar. It was his last day in Vegas today, so they'd decided to go for one last drink with the guys before taking him to the airport. Catherine had noticed Sara watching Jack cautiously ever since they got here, and took the opportunity to find out why. She leant close, so only the two of them could hear what was being said.

"Are you okay?" She asked softly. Sara nodded. "You keep staring at him; everything alright?"

"Jack's not to careful with his drinking habits." Sara said tactfully. "I don't want him to lose it." Cath nodded in understanding and gripped Sara's hand tightly in her own. Jack returned with the drinks, placing them on the table and snatching his own up immediately.

"So, where you headed now?" Nick asked him, since they had discovered that he was not exactly of fixed address. Jack shrugged, sending the Texan a lazy smile.

"Atlanta, New York, New Jersey...wherever the world takes me." Brass chuckled.

"Well, I'd steer clear of that last one." He advised light-heartedly.

"Oh yeah, you know some folks from the garden state?" Jack raised an eyebrow. Jim flashed him a grin.

"Yeah. Me."

X x x

"Take care of yourself kiddo, I mean that." Jack wrapped his daughter in a tight hug, letting her nestle herself against his chest for just a moment longer. When he released her, it was obvious she was struggling with tears so Catherine decided to give her an out.

"I'll be back in a minute." The blonde said to her softly, leaving her alone for a moment to settle herself. Jack and Cath walked over to the departure gates, turning to face each other.

"Don't be a stranger." She said to him, her blue eyes seeking out his gaze. He chuckled.

"Wherever the wind blows, you will find me there."

"Pillar." The shared a long, silent smile. Finally, Catherine looked away. "You were always the one I remembered, you know."

"I never felt right about what happened. A baby should be with their mother." Jack admitted softly. "I guess we just have to roll with the punches."

"Last call for flight 796 to California." They both looked up at the crackling intercom message. Jack glanced back at Sara, who was leaning against the glass, staring out at the awaiting plane. He swallowed hard and turned his attention back to Catherine. Taking a step closer, he picked up her hand and lay a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "Take good care of my Bella."

X x x

Catherine chanced a glance at Sara, who was staring glumly out of the window.

"You're quiet. Something on your mind?" She asked.

"Mm." Sara hummed, not tearing her gaze away from the street whizzing past her window.

"Care to share?" Cath pressed.

"Normally when he goes, he doesn't come back." Sara stated sadly. Cath reached out a hand and patted her knee softly.

"He will. He's got a good reason to now." She threw a smile sideways. Sara nodded, but didn't respond.

Once they reached home, the first thing they spotted was Nancy's car in the driveway. Cath rolled her eyes.

"I gave her a key for emergencies." She muttered, eliciting a smile from Sara.

She pushed the door open and sauntered straight into the kitchen. "Nancy. What a surprise." Sara heard Cath say with undeniably false enthusiasm.

"I thought you might want some company." Nancy offered by way of excuse.

"Bull. You wanted the lowdown on Jack." Cath countered, getting herself a cup of coffee.

"Well, as long as you're offering." The younger sister grinned, leaning forward.

"No." Catherine answered bluntly. Nancy pouted. "And you can pack that in too." The nurse laughed.

"Fine. Don't tell me. I'm sure your darling daughter will fill me in later." She took a mouthful of her drink. "Where is she anyway?"

"Lindsey's at school. Sara was behind me, she must have gone upstairs."

"She not coming in to say hello?" Nancy frowned.

"She's a little down about Jack going home. I'm sure she'll come down in a bit."

They were quiet for a moment.

"Did he say anything about..."

"No." Catherine cut her off sharply.

"Does Sara know?"

"No."

"Cathy, you have to tell her sometime."

"Why?" Cath asked. "It was a long time ago, what difference does it make now?"

"Catherine, you..."

X x x

"Hey, you okay?" Cath tapped on Sara's door lightly, walking in. Sara was curled up on the bed, her back to the door. When she got no answer, she assumed Sara was sleeping, but as she sat on the bed she saw the brunette move. She placed a hand on her body. "Honey, you alright?" She repeated softly. Sara didn't answer. "Talk to me Sar."

"I'm fine." She mumbled at last. Cath shuffled closer, propping herself up on the pillow behind her daughter.

"If you tell me what's bothering you I might be able to help." Sara's only answer was to curl up tighter. Cath lay down behind her, resting her head on Sara's shoulder. "Alright, don't talk to me. But I'm not leaving until I find out what's wrong." She wrapped her arms around the girl, feeling her chest rising and falling with every breath.

X x x

When she opened her sleep-laden eyes, Sara was gone. She sat up and looked around the room, but the brunette was not in sight.

She found her in the kitchen, staring into space.

"Hey, when'd you sneak off?" She asked, stroking Sara's hair as she drifted past her. Sara did not answer. Cath sighed, leaning her back against the counter top. "Look, you can sulk all you want, but I have had years of experience of this, so don't think it's going to make me give up." She joked, gesturing to Lindsey's photo pinned to the fridge. Finally, Sara looked up, meeting her gaze.

"Were you ever planning on telling me?" She asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

"Telling you what?" Catherine frowned, puzzled, sliding into a seat next to Sara.

"That you tried to kill me."

**x x x x**

**Oooh. Reviews will make me update faster ;)**


	33. Second glance

**Sorry it's so short, but tell me what you guys think x**

**x x x x**

_September 16 1973_

For just a moment, everything was still. Then a tiny hand stretched up, baby fingers unfurling slowly as the child grasped at the air. The first time she opened her mouth, she could make no more sound than a soft squeak. Then she cried.

Catherine snapped back from wherever she had drifted off to, looking down at the child with panicked blue eyes, wide and fearful.

Without thinking she clamped a hand over the baby's tiny mouth, feeling hot breath against the skin of her palm. The muted crying turned into soft whimpers and the gentle breaths became strained and unsteady as she gasped desperately for air. Tiny fingers pawed pitifully at Catherine's hand, fighting for her life. Catherine looked at the door, begging to some invisible deity that the neighbours had not heard the baby cry. She was not really aware of what she was doing, or even of what had just happened. All she knew was she wanted it to stop. She wanted it all to go away.

As the child's struggling got weaker, she cast her eyes back down.

And finally, the sound stopped.

X x x

She wasn't moving. She wasn't crying. Catherine stared at the motionless child, horror-struck. What had she done?

Hurriedly reaching up for a pair of scissors off the counter, she fumbled to cut the umbilical cord with shaking hands. Shuffling carefully to cross her legs, Indian style, she lay the motionless baby down on her lap and held the back of her hand over her mouth. Nothing.

"No, no, please God no." She whispered. She pressed two fingers gently against the delicate chest. "Come on baby, please." She begged. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry." She chanted, rubbing her fingertips against the chest gently, applying as much pressure as she felt she dared. She could feel the miniature ribcage underneath her touch. "Please forgive me baby. I'm sorry." Tears spilled from her cheeks, landing on the soft skin of the lifeless creature in her arms.

Beneath her fingertips, she felt a slight movement. She halted her motions, letting her fingers sit lightly on the skin for a second. There it was; her second chance. It was faint, but it was a heartbeat.

The baby stirred and her tiny mouth opened, emitting a pained cry. This time, Catherine didn't care who heard it. More tears trickled down her flushed face, but they were tears of relief.

"Thank you." She whispered, holding the child close to her chest. She looked down, a grateful smile on her face as she finally looked at the thing she had been hiding for so long. "Baby girl." She mumbled.


	34. Devil's right hand

"How do you know?" Catherine asked, her voice trembling.

"Does it matter?" Sara retorted, keeping her eyes trained on the kitchen table, as if she was trying to count every grain in the wood. When Catherine didn't make a sound, Sara answered. "I overheard you and Nancy." She looked up. "You really should make sure you're alone if you're going to have private conversations like that."

"You were never supposed to know." Catherine mumbled, shaking her head. She looked lost.

"You wrote to Jack about it?"

"Yes." Cath nodded. "I don't know why I did it; I didn't know why then and I still don't know now." She tucked her hair behind her ears nervously, but it fell forward again, hiding her face. "I guess I wanted a reaction from him. I wanted him to know what I'd been through for him. For you."

"Why did you do it?" All anger had temporarily drained from Sara's voice. She sounded betrayed. Again, Cath merely shook her head.

"I was scared."

"Of me?" Sara frowned.

"No. I ... I panicked. You started crying, I was scared that someone would hear."

"So you tried to kill me?" Her voice rose with her temper.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you." Catherine insisted, finally meeting Sara's fiery gaze. "I ... I just wanted you to be quiet." She swallowed hard, wiping in vain at her streaming eyes. "I was 14 Sara! I didn't know what I was doing." She reached a hand out to her daughter's but Sara shied away. "Bella, please..."

"Don't." Sara whispered. "Don't call me that." Cath chewed on her lip anxiously.

"I'm sorry." She mouthed, unable to form words.

"You could have left me at a hospital or a police station, it's not like I would have told anyone."

"I know, and all those things crossed my mind."

"But instead you thought you'd opt for the more direct option."

"I panicked Sara. I was scared and confused. But I never wanted to lose you." She reached out again and this time managed to grip Sara's hand, despite the brunette trying to pull away. "I spent years looking for you Sara; I would phone hospitals and police stations, even coroners, just to convince myself that you were okay. That you weren't lying somewhere, abandoned or hurt." Sara was avoiding her gaze but Cath knew that she was listening to her words intently. "I even had a private detectives number burning in my phone for years, but I never dared to use it." This time Sara did look up.

"Why?"

"Because I was scared that if I found you, you would reject me." Catherine answered honestly. "I'd already lost you once through my own careless actions, and then I got a second chance. You came back. And then someone took you away from me and I lost you for good. If you'd walked away from me again I don't think I could have handled it." Sara was quiet for a long moment.

"Well maybe you'll have to."

X x x

"Don't worry about it Cath, she'll come around." Nick assured her, photographing the victim's slumped and blood-covered body.

"Yeah, she'll get over it." Warrick chimed in. "She's just upset; she's had a lot to take in recently. It can't be easy finding out that your whole life has been a lie and then to find out that you nearly died in the first minute of your life." He whistled, just to get his point across. Cath nodded, understanding his message.

"I know. I know, it's not fair on her and I can't expect her to take it all in her stride. I just ... All I've ever wanted is my little girl back, and when I finally get that I go and mess it up again." The blonde moped miserably.

"Come on Cath, you haven't messed anything up." Nick chastised her gently, placing a hand on her arm. "You were a kid; you didn't know what you were doing back then. Just give her some space, she'll see that." She took a deep breath and nodded, casting her eyes up to the ceiling.

"I would but Grissom seems intent on making that difficult." She joked dryly. Since they had been paired together, Sara had opted to take the upstairs, if for no other reason than to put some distance between herself and her mother.

"She'll come around Cath. I promise. She's just upset right now."

"Yeah, I know." Cath took a deep breath, shaking her head to get it back in the game. "Nicky why don't you go see what's taking David so long."

"Okay boss." The Texan set his camera down and walked outside to phone Super Dave.

"You gonna be okay?" Warrick asked when he's left.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." She nodded. "Rick, why don't you go check the back garden, see if you can find out how they got in and out."

"I'm on it." He strode out the opposite way to Nick, leaving Catherine alone in the lounge. From somewhere above she heard Sara's footsteps approaching the stairs.

She turned, casting a flashlight over the blood-spattered walls, trying to focus her mind on the job at hand. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of her eye. She spun around, her flashlight casting shadows around the dim room.

After that, everything happened too fast.

Catherine saw the gun before she saw the man. Her hand flew to her own weapon at her hip, but it was too late.

There was a sudden movement. A shot was fired.

And the only sound in the echoic silence that followed was her daughter's limp body hitting the ground.

**x x x x**

**Apologies for the second present-tense cliff-hanger in a row, but it had to be done. Thoughts?**


	35. Lonely hero

**Happy Easter all :) This flashback relates to a story told by Catherine in s2e17 Felonious Monk. Enjoy x**

**x x x x**

_September 16__th__ 1983_

"Fuck off Ed, I'm not in the mood." Cath grunted as soon as she felt that course hand gliding up her body.

"Never stopped us before." He crooned into her ear. She elbowed him lightly in the stomach and sat up, running a hand through her hair.

"I mean it." She snapped tiredly. She heard him sigh dramatically, before he clambered across the bed to sit on the edge next to her.

"Alright, what's wrong?" He asked, clearly not really interested.

"Nothing." She sulked miserably.

"Come on, you've been ratty with me all day. Just tell me what I've done and maybe I can make it up to you." He mumbled against her cheek seductively. Again, she pushed him away.

"Pack it in Eddie." She stood up and snatched her hairbrush off the dresser, dragging it through her long strawberry blonde tresses. This time he emitted a frustrated groan as he hauled himself to his feet.

"What the hell's up with you today?" He shouted, yanking her wrist away from her head roughly to get her attention. She wrenched her hand back, glowering at him from flaming blue eyes.

"Nothing, just forget it." She looked away.

"Cathy, tell me what's wrong. I can't deal with these random bad moods."

"Then go." She suggested coldly. He laughed dryly.

"What? So you can run off to your little whore friends and tell them what a bad boyfriend I am! Tell me what's going on."

"It doesn't concern you." She snapped, instantly regretting it.

"If it concerns you, then it concerns me." He stepped closer to her; she stepped back.

"Just leave it Ed, I cannot deal with you right now!" she turned back to the dresser, pretending to touch up her makeup ready for work.

"You know what Cat, fuck you." He spat, stalking past her, knocking her into the dresser as he went. She waited for the telltale slamming of the door before she finally let go.

Angry tears streamed down her cheeks, ruining her freshly touched up mascara.

She dropped onto the seat in front of the dresser, opening the drawer. Inside, hidden beneath various shades of eye-shadow and bottles of perfume, lay a little purple horse. She picked it up, cradling it in her hands tenderly, letting crystal tears splash unnoticed onto the plastic. She held it up to her mouth, placing a soft kiss against the faded toy.

"Happy birthday baby girl."

X x x

"Hey Cat, you alright?" Stephanie asked as she sauntered into the changing room and dropped unceremoniously onto a stool. Anyone else would just assume it had been a long day, but not Steph. She knew her too well.

"No." Catherine admitted glumly. When her friend looked at her expectantly she shrugged her shoulders. "Eddie and I had a blow-up. Nothing new." She plastered a false smile on her lips. "He'll drink it off and come crawling back." She tried to brush it off, but Steph's raised eyebrow told her she wasn't buying it.

"What's the scumbag done to you now?" The blonde asked knowingly. Cath shook her head.

"Nothing. We just had an argument, you know ... stupid little things."

"You're okay?" She asked, just to make sure. Cath nodded, offering a more genuine smile this time.

"I'm fine. Promise."

X x x

After her fight with Ed, she didn't think her day could get much worse. As goes the power of tempting fate...

She was half way through her third or fourth dance when she first saw him. Sat at the end of the bar; sitting lonely, staring into his drink. She made a mental note to go say hi to Jimmy the first chance she got, when suddenly the room turned to panic.

He'd ambled in quite innocuously and drifted over to the bar, where one hand lay inoffensively on the counter, the other slipping into his jacket inside pocket. But it wasn't his wallet he was reaching for.

As soon as the bartender, a young girl of barely 18, saw the gun she screamed. And a single shot rang out.

After that, chaos ensued. Customers scarpered, dancers ducked for cover. Catherine felt herself knocked forward, stumbling blindly off the edge of the podium.

Before she hit the floor she saw the gunman take aim at someone and a second shot rang out.

For a moment everything was still. Then she saw Jimmy Tadero rush past her. She sat up, wincing against the shot of pain in her head. Jimmy knelt down next to the felled gunman, and to the shock of everyone in the room, began performing mouth-to-mouth. His drink remained abandoned on the floor, seeping across the slick floorboards.

There was a unanimous silence as everyone waited on baited breath, waited to see whether Jimmy would bring this guy, this guy that he had just shot, back to life.

And he did. As the guy took a deep, gasping breath, everyone else released theirs.

X x x

"Hey, you okay kiddo?" Jimmy sidled up and dropped next to Catherine on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, I'll live." She laughed softly, indicating the gash on her forehead. The detective pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it against her bleeding wound, encouraging her to hold it there.

"Thankfully, so will he." Jimmy nodded to the wounded gunman being loaded onto the back of an ambulance despite his angry ramblings about suing.

"Yeah. Thanks to you." Cath smiled at Tadero. "You were amazing Jimmy." He shrugged, looking away.

"Hey, if you're gonna risk those girl's lives you're going to live to pay the price." They were quiet for a long moment. "Shame about the new girl."He added softly, referring to the young girl lying in a pool of blood behind the bar.

"I know." She wiped surreptitiously at the tears threatening to fall.

"Cath!" They both looked up, seeing Eddie dodging his way through the crowd. Jimmy tapped her knee softly.

"Get that head checked out." He whispered, standing up to let Eddie collapse onto the sidewalk next to his girlfriend.

"Cathy? Are you alright?" Eddie let his eyes scan her body for any sign of injury.

"I...I'm fine." She promised, gripping his hand tightly. "There, there was a shooting." She explained absently. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard there were police here. I came as soon as I could." He panted, out of breath. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." She looked him straight in the eyes. "I'll be fine."

He nodded, finally relaxing. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to him as the ambulance tore off down the busy street, sirens wailing against the flashing lights of the strip.


	36. With a little help from my friends

A second shot rang out, snapping Catherine from her daze. The suspect hit the floor with a dull thud, landing a few feet away from Sara's limp body. Catherine looked up and met Nick's sober gaze over their bloodied colleague. His hand, gun still encased loosely in his fingers, dropped to his side.

After that everything happened in a blur. All Catherine remembered was cradling Sara in her arms, clinging to her for dear life, blood soaking into her skin, while the world spun around her.

Having heard the shot, Brass had come running through the front door and Warrick from the back. Upon seeing the sight before them panic set in. Phone calls were made, blankets were brought and the whole time Catherine did not take her eyes off Sara's cold, pale face for one second.

X x x

Cath felt two sets of hands on her and before she knew it she had been prised away from her daughter and was being held back as the EMTs got to work. Wires and tubes were attached and a stretcher was carried in.

Warrick and Brass held Catherine back with great force, while Nick acted as courier for the paramedics, passing equipment and holding wires out of the way.

Finally, Sara was lifted onto the stretcher and carried to the waiting ambulance, amid a crowd of curious neighbours and sombre uniforms.

"I'm going with her." Catherine yanked herself free from Brass' grip and ran towards the vehicle. Warrick made a grab for her, catching her by the back of the jacket.

"Cath, let them work. I'll drive you." He bargained.

"No, please. I'm going..." she twisted in his grip, trying to free herself, but he was too strong. The ambulance doors closed with a harsh slam and all she could do was cry as she watched the wailing ambulance, blue lights flashing ominously, disappear into the night with her daughter.

X x x

By the time they reached Desert Palms, Grissom, Greg and Doc Robbins were already there. They stood up, Grissom instantly going to Catherine.

"Are you alright?" He asked, noting the blood that covered most of her body.

"Where is she?" She demanded in a shaky voice, ignoring his concern for her.

"She's still in surgery." Sofia said, announcing her presence. "The doctor said they'll let us know of any updates."

"I want to see her." Cath said softly.

"They're doing everything they can for her Catherine." The blonde detective assured her.

"Catherine!" The CSI turned, seeing a nurse rushing towards her through the crowd. "What happened?" Nancy gripped her sister's shoulders, looking her up and down with horror.

"Sara." Cath whispered, tears stinging her eyes.

"She was shot at a crime scene." Warrick filled in the blanks. Nancy's eyes widened and she pulled Cath into a tight hug.

"Where is she?" The younger woman asked, her gaze flicking from one person to the next. Greg pointed to a room and Nancy let Catherine go. "I'll see what I can find out." She disappeared into the operating theatre, leaving the crowd to wait.

Catherine sat down slowly on one of the plastic chairs by the door, shaking her head. Doc Robbins sat next to her and took her in his own but she barely noticed. She looked lost.

X x x

"It's my fault." Catherine whispered at last. They'd all settled in for a long stay, lined up on either side of the hallway on plastic chairs. It had been over seven hours now and they had not heard a thing, except the assurance from Nancy that they were doing everything they could to save her. Nick lifted his head from his hands.

"No it's not Cath. You weren't to know he was still there."

"That bullet was meant for me." She said, her voice cracking.

"It's not your fault Catherine." Albert added more forcefully. She turned to him, tears trekking down her pale face.

"What if I lose her?"

"Hey, we can't talk like that." Warrick chastised her softly. "Sara's a fighter. She'll pull through this."

As if it were fate, as soon as he spoke the door opened and a young male nurse stepped into the hall.

"Miss Sidle's family?" He asked, as if there were room for anyone else in the hallway. Catherine was on her feet like a shot.

"Is she okay?" She demanded. He smiled kindly.

"She's in recovery at the moment. Sara lost a lot of blood but no major organs were damaged. She's not out of the woods yet but it's looking good." There was a unanimous release of breath from the group.

"Can I see her?" Catherine begged, her eyes pleading with the nurse. He smiled, his green eyes warm and friendly.

"Of course. She's still asleep but feel free to sit with her." He stepped aside, allowing Catherine to bolt past him into the room. "I will need to contact her next of kin." He continued. Grissom pointed in the direction that Catherine had just vanished.

"That's her mother."

X x x

Ignoring the looks from the hospital staff flitting about, Catherine bulleted to her daughter's side, gripping her hand tightly.

"Hey baby girl." She whispered to the sleeping brunette. "What are you trying to do to me?" She sat down next to the bed, never taking her eyes off Sara's face. She looked so peaceful.

It felt like an age before Sara's eyes finally flickered open, then closed again.

"Mom?" The girl asked drowsily, almost as if it were natural. And Catherine's response came just as naturally.

"I'm here baby." She squeezed her hand tighter, reaching out to stroke her hair tenderly. "I'm right here."

"What time is it?" Sara mumbled sleepily, trying to roll onto her back.

"Early." Cath smiled at the irrelevance of the question, placing a hand on Sara's side to keep her still. "How do you feel?" Sara shrugged weakly, wincing at the pain it caused.

"I've been better." She joked. Finally her eyes opened properly and she glanced around the small area of the room that she could see. "Where are the boys?"

"They're outside. Everyone's here."

"They're okay?" Sara's brown eyes searched Cath's face eagerly, hunting for the answer she needed. It took Catherine a moment to work out what she was asking.

"They're fine. Everyone's okay honey." She assured her. "He's gone. He can't hurt anyone else." This seemed to settle Sara's fears and she let her eyes drift closed again. Cath watched her silently for a moment. "What were you playing at Bella?" She asked softly at last. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I was trying to protect you." Sara frowned.

"That's my job, darling." Cath half smiled. "I can't believe you took a bullet for me."

"You're my mother. I'd do anything for you." Sara retorted simply, shuffling slightly into a more comfortable position. Cath brushed her hair aside tenderly. She leant forward and kissed her cheek.

"I love you so much." She mumbled against Sara's skin.

"Sara!" The tender moment was broken by loud hurried footsteps approaching the bed.

"Don't touch her Lindsey!" Nancy's voice caught her before she launched herself at the bed. The 12-year-old stopped suddenly, remembering that Sara was badly hurt.

"Hey Linds." Sara smiled weakly, reaching out a hand to her sister. The little blonde gripped her hand tightly. Catherine kissed her youngest daughter's head and looked to the door where Nancy and Lily were hovering.

"Mom?" Cath asked, stepping away from the bed. "Why isn't she at school?"

"I thought she deserved the day off." Lily explained, casting her eyes over her fallen grandchild. Cath turned, smiling at the touching sight of Lindsey leaning against the bed, gently stroking Sara's cheek. "How's she doing?"

"She'll be okay." Cath nodded, still watching her two girls.

"Oh, here. Nancy said you needed some clean clothes." Lily held out a plastic bag, noting Catherine's blood-stained attire. Cath took the bag thankfully, looking down at herself for the first time. Her gaze flicked to the bed anxiously. "I'll stay with her. You go change." Lily said, reading her mind.

X x x

Cath and Nancy filed out, where the boys jumped to their feet.

"Is she okay?" Greg asked eagerly.

"She will be." Cath promised.

"Can we see her?" Grissom asked, speaking for the first time in several hours. Nancy glanced sideways at Catherine.

"Maybe just family today. She'll be up for more visitors tomorrow." They all nodded in understanding.

"Take care of her Cath." Doc Robbins said, giving her a hug. One by one they all said their goodbyes, starting to drift out.

"Oh Cath, they need you to sign some forms." Sofia remembered before she left.

"I'll sort it out, you go change." Nancy said, ushering her towards the bathrooms.

X x x

When Catherine slipped back into the recovery room she waited just a moment in the doorway, watching her little family together.

Lindsey had positioned herself on the bed, curled up against Sara without touching her injured side. Sara had one arm draped loosely around the child's back.

Lily was sat in the chair by the bed, one hand on Lindsey's knee, the other gently stroking Sara's hair. Nancy was perched on the edge of the bed asking questions while she filled in the paperwork.

Sara was the first one to notice Cath, lifting her head up slightly and smiling. Nancy stood up and handed Cath the paperwork.

"Here, sign this to say you won't sue us if we misplace your daughter." She joked.

"Ha ha." Sara mumbled sleepily. Cath signed the forms and handed them back, ambling over to the bed.

"Mom, can you take Lindsey to get something to eat?" Lily stood up, understanding her message.

"Come on sweetie." She took Lindsey's hand, tugging her off the bed. She bent down and kissed Sara's forehead. "Get some rest honey."

Cath waited until everyone had filed out before resuming her place on the bed.

"Hey Bella. How you feeling?" She asked softly. Again, Sara shrugged.

"Tired."

"Yeah, I hope they weren't too much for you." She joked, indicating the rest of the family. Sara smiled.

"No. It's still kind of weird having a 12 year old sister all of a sudden though." Cath laughed.

"Yeah, I bet." She laced her fingers through Sara's. "You know, I remember when I was pregnant, suddenly getting the urge to be really nice to Nancy. She was nine years old and a pain in the ass." They both laughed. "I guess it must have been my maternal instincts kicking in." She joked. "I didn't think I had any until Linds came along. When Eddie left I had to take care of a small child with no money. I guess that's when I really stepped up the pace to find you." She frowned softly, absently stroking Sara's back. "I realised that if I could deal with that I could handle anything." Her voice softened. "I wanted my baby back."

She looked down, a soft smile gracing her lips. Sara was asleep, one hand clutched protectively inside Catherine's. Cath bent down, dropping a kiss into her hair.

"Sleep tight my baby Bella."

**x x x x**

**Only a few more to go! x**


	37. Taking matters into her own hands

_1996_

Catherine ran a stressed hand through her hair as she stalked down the hallway, avoiding eye contact with everyone who passed her. The grapevine had been working overtime in the last couple of weeks and it didn't take a genius to know what the hot topic was.

Since Eddie left Catherine had barely slept, barely eaten and probably looked a wreck. And to add insult to injury the bastard had cleaned her out.

She drifted into the break room, retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long, cooling mouthful. She had a feeling it was going to be another long night.

"Hey." A smooth, deep voice resonated through her headache. She turned, offering a tired smile to Warrick Brown. He returned the gesture, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah, getting there." She tried and failed to sound convincing. He squeezed her arm before releasing her.

"How's Lindsey doing?" He continued, reaching around her to pour himself a cup of coffee. Cath sighed, shaking her head.

"She's ... upset. Hasn't slept in her own bed since he left." She chewed on her lip nervously. "Oh Warrick I don't know ... how do you tell a five year old that her daddy's a cheating scumbag?" The dark skinned man chuckled dryly.

"She'll be fine. She's got you." He nudged her gently. She laughed softly.

"I hope you're right."

"You'll get back on your feet. You know we're all here for you if you need us." She nodded gratefully. "You're a great mom. Any kid would be lucky to have you." He added before patting her arm and sauntering back out.

She paused thoughtfully, the water bottle halfway to her mouth.

X x x

She started off simple. Birth certificates. However that was not as easy as she thought it would be. Apparently you needed a surname to do that.

Sticking with a theme, she tried marriage records. It hadn't crossed her mind until now that her daughter could be married, but there was always a chance. Although she would have had to marry young, but why not. Catherine had.

Again she drew a blank, but not before an idea struck her.

She was a criminalist. She had access to criminal records.

She didn't even want to try searching for her daughter, but she was not adverse to searching for her old flame. After all, find Jack and she would find Bella.

X x x

Having locked herself in a quiet lab with a computer, she logged on to the database. She was fully aware of how much of an abuse of power this was and of what Brass would do to her if he found out, but right now she was too excited to care. She was possibly just a few clicks away from finding her girl.

However, when she system finally booted up, she realised that it might not be as easy as that. She had the name Jack, born in 1957 or 1958. And, presuming he still loved in California; that left her with rather a lot of records to sift though: everything from bar brawls to murderers.

Yes, it was definitely going to be a long night.

X x x

"Yes I am aware of that, that's why I am phoning." She clenched her teeth, trying not to snap. When the monotone voice on the other end of the line repeated the scripted words her patience snapped. "Forget it! Useless bunch of jackasses!" She slammed the phone down, running a hand over her face and submerging it in her short strawberry blonde hair. When she opened her eyes and saw Lindsey's anxious little face frowning up at her she dropped her hand and plastered a comforting smile on her face. "Everything's going to be alright baby." She picked the little blonde up, holding her in a tight hug, inhaling the sweet scent of her baby girl.

"When's daddy coming home?" Lindsey asked, her arms locking around Catherine's neck. Cath sighed, sitting on the couch with the child on her lap.

"He's not honey." She kissed her sad little face gently. "Daddy's not coming home."

X x x

"Hello? Cath?" She didn't answer Nancy's call; her sister would find her eventually. And sure enough the nurse poked her head outside and spotted Catherine sat on the back garden steps, cigarette in hand. "You're supposed to be quitting." The younger sibling chastised, dropping down next to her.

"So shoot me." Cath retorted dryly. "I needed it."

"What kind of example is that setting Linds?" Cath didn't answer. "How is she?"

"Not good." Catherine exhaled. "I had to tell her Nance."

"She would have found out eventually."

"Yeah."

"Mom said she might drop by today."

"Yeah she did." Cath confirmed. "Another chance for her to gloat that she was right and I was wrong." Nancy wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting Cath rest her head against her and they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Finally, Catherine dropped her cigarette and ground it out beneath her slippered foot. She took a deep breath, staring straight ahead. "I'm going to find Bella."


	38. Flowers and a giant teddy bear

**Two to go! Let me know what you think x**

**x x x x**

"Hey Catherine?" The blonde spun on her heel, letting Wendy catch her up in the hall. "How's Sara doing?" The lab rat asked breathlessly. Cath nodded, continuing down the hallway.

"She's fine, they just want to keep her in for a few days; it's just a precaution."

"Great, that's great." Wendy looked relieved. Catherine ducked into her office, but Wendy didn't leave, choosing to linger in the doorway. When Catherine looked up she raised an eyebrow.

"Was there something else?" She asked expectantly.

"No, no." She shook her head. "Well... I just wanted to say that I'm really happy for you. Both of you." She gushed.

"Oh. Thank you." Cath frowned.

"Anytime." Wendy grinned, shuffling back out. Catherine shook her head, chuckling softly. Apparently she wasn't the only one taking some time to adjust to this new lifestyle.

X x x

"Hey, how's the hero?" Hodges asked without looking up. Nick and Warrick looked at each other over his head. "Greg told me what happened." He explained, finally looking up.

"She's fine."

"Yeah, she's a tough cookie." Warrick added.

"Oh, so you've seen her?"

"No, not yet. She was still in intensive care, but Catherine's seen her."

"Ah yes, mommy dearest." Hodges grinned.

"Don't call me that." They all turned, finding Catherine leaning casually against the doorframe." The lab tech shuffled sheepishly.

"Hey, you think your girl's up for visitors today?" Nick asked, flashing a charming smile.

"Yeah I don't see why not. I stopped by before shift, she's restless. She'd probably appreciate the company."

"Cool." Warrick and Nick shared a smile. "So, she'll be back on side soon, yeah?" Cath smiled.

"One thing at a time."

X x x

"Hey girl, what happened to you?" She looked up, startled by the voices. However it didn't take long for her shock to turn into joy.

"Hey, please tell me you've come to take me home?" She asked, wrapped her arms around Nick's neck.

"Sorry, your mother's ordered us to leave you here." The Texan joked, stepping aside to let Warrick have his hug.

"Damn girl, what were you trying to do to us?" He asked, dropping a kiss into her hair. She dropped back into the pillows, sighing heavily. Nick laughed at her disgruntled expression.

"Can't wait to leave huh?"

"No." She sulked. "Where's Greg?" She asked hopefully, looking towards the door. Nick and Warrick exchanged a look.

"Oh, he's um..."

"He's..."

They were saved from answering by a clattering and a muffled groan from the threshold, where a giant teddy bear filled the doorway.

"He's here." Warrick answered between chuckles. Sara beamed at Greg, whose head appeared above the bears as he stumbled inelegantly into the room.

"Hey, I brought you something." He grinned.

"Is it flowers?" Sara asked coyly. The boys laughed, while Greg hopped across the room and dropped the giant bear onto the bottom of the bed, launching himself at the brunette for a hug. She winced as he hit the tender area of her stomach, but she hid it well, returning the embrace.

"We've missed you." He said, finally releasing her.

"I've only been gone a day."

"I know, but still." He smiled playfully. "Do you like him?"

"I love him. Thank you." She leant over and kissed his cheek, causing him to blush furiously.

"Aw." He smiled bashfully.

X x x

Once the excitement of visitors wore off Sara began to lag and it was not long before she was laid asleep against Nick's shoulder. He carefully moved off the bed and lay her down against the pillows, making sure she was comfortable before letting her go altogether.

"Sleep tight honey." He kissed her forehead tenderly before standing up straight and turning to leave with the others, where they nearly walked into a smirking Catherine. She flicked her eyes from Nick to Sara, to the thing at the end of her bed. One eyebrow rose slowly.

"Why do I get the feeling you had something to do with that Greg?" She asked with amusement. The young CSI just smiled.

They said their goodbyes and left Catherine to watch over her sleeping daughter in peace.

Although not for long.

X x x

She had just got herself settled next to the bed and there was a shuffling of shoes and a muted cough. She turned, surprised to find Gil Grissom lurking behind her uncertainly with an armful of flowers.

"Not a plant?" She asked jokingly, biting back a smile at the way he suddenly became flustered.

"Should I have brought a plant instead?" He asked, panic creeping into his voice. Cath chuckled softly, causing him to frown.

"Never mind." She shook her head, holding out her hands. "Here, I'll put them in some water." She took the bouquet and disappeared into an adjoining room, leaving him alone with the sleeping brunette. He walked cautiously over to the bed, reaching out a tentative hand to hers. "She won't bite you know." The blonde pointed out, making him jump, as she wandered back in with the flowers now in a clear vase of water.

"I know." He nodded, back. "How's she doing?"

"Good. She's just tired at the moment." Cath said, sitting back down heavily and taking her hand. Grissom scrutinised her for a moment.

"So are you." He stated at last. She laughed dryly.

"Yeah, well. I didn't get much sleep yesterday." There was a long moment of silence before Grissom finally spoke again, soft and sympathetic.

"You really love her don't you?" Catherine looked at him like he'd just sprouted antlers. "I mean, I know you love her, but as a daughter, rather than..." he gave up trying to backtrack, letting his hands fall to his sides.

"Of course I do." She stated obviously. "Gil, I've loved her since the day she was born."

"Then why did you give her up?" It struck her that she had never really explained it to him before, so she gestured for him to sit down and he pulled up another chair, glancing once more at Sara before turning to Catherine attentatively.

"I didn't." She began simply.

X x x

Once she finished explaining they sat in companionable silence, just watching Sara sleep peacefully. Grissom was just about to offer some kind of apology for not understanding her position sooner when there was a quiet knock at the door and both turned to find a dark-haired woman with uncertain eyes hovering in the doorway.

"Excuse me; I'm looking for Sara Sidle." There was a hint of something in her accent that Catherine couldn't quite place. "I'm her mother."

X x x

"Why don't I go get us something to drink?" Grissom said, placing a supporting hand on Catherine's shoulder as he slipped past her. Catherine stood up to greet the woman, the shock still painted on her face.

"Laura?" She greeted softly, offering her hand. "My name's Catherine, I..." She trailed off. What on earth was she supposed to say? Thankfully, she didn't have to. As soon as she spoke something flashed across Laura's face.

"I know who you are." The soft-spoken woman said, her eyes glancing around Cath to dance over Sara's body. "Thank you."

X x x

Catherine couldn't deny the feelings of jealousy that were burning inside her as she watched Laura fuss affectionately over Sara. She had to admit, blood or not she was her mother. But still, she felt sorry for the older woman. Laura had had a difficult life, that was clear from her face, but she had loved Sara like her own for thirty years and now this stranger had come in a stolen her thunder. It must be hard for her.

"You did a wonderful job with her." She offered up, feeling weakness of the words even as she spoke them. Laura turned to her, a sad smile on her face.

"Thank you." She nodded appreciatively. "She's so beautiful isn't she?" One shaking hand trailed tenderly across the girl's cheek.

"Yes, she is." Cath agreed, moving around the bed to perch on the end, resting one hand on Sara's leg.

"Jack told me about you." She explained, not tearing her eyes away from Sara. "I tried calling her at her work but they told me she was here."

"She's going to be okay." Catherine felt the need, as a mother, to assuage the woman's fears straight away. "She just needs a few days rest." Laura nodded, not really listening.

"I put her in here once. When she was a child." She swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to, I just ... lost my temper."

"Laura..." Catherine tried to stop her, to tell her that it was okay, but she continued oblivious.

"I nearly drowned her. I could have killed her." Tears were starting to fall and she edged away from the bed.

"Laura it's okay." Cath tried again, but it was no use. The dark haired woman looked up, meeting Catherine's empathic gaze.

"I'm glad she's found you." She leant down and kissed Sara's head so gently, barely grazing the skin. She stepped back, edging away from the bed. Catherine leapt to her feet, begging her to stay, but Laura was already halfway to the door.

"Laura please don't go." She pleaded, following her across the room.

"Tell her I'm sorry." She mumbled, stumbling out of the door and into the busy corridor. Catherine was about to follow when a quiet mumble halted her footsteps.

"Mom?" Cath bit her lip, debating how to answer the confused plea. Sadly, she turned back to the bed, where Sara was watching her through bemused eyes.

"I'm here Bella." She whispered, walking back to her daughter's side.


	39. Day of the saints

_September 16__th__ 1977_

I remember very little about my childhood, why would I want to? However, if I dig down deep enough, I can recall a few snippets of memory.

The earliest of which was the day Marc Bolan died.

It was my fourth birthday.

X x x

She had woken up early and snuck into her brother's room. He was still asleep, but he stirred when she creaked the door open tentatively. He cracked one eye open, a small smile twitching at his lips.

"Happy birthday kiddo." He mumbled sleepily. She grinned and launched herself at the bed, clambering over the covers until she was curled up against him.

"Can we go to the park today?" She asked, flashing him a sweet grin. He shuffled into a seated position, draping an arm around her small shoulders.

"Sure, we can go to the park." He chuckled. "Now get out of here, scamp." He ruffled her hair affectionately. She slithered of the bed and scuttled to the door where his voice held her there a moment longer. "Hey, before you go why don't you open that drawer?" He pointed to the top drawer of his desk. She frowned at him, puzzled, but he nodded for her to go ahead. She tugged the drawer open and peeped inside. Her little face lit up and she lifted out the small package, crudely wrapped in brown paper, holding it to her chest. He winked at her, enjoying the glee on her face.

"Thanks Jack." She whispered, scuttling back to her room with the prize. He chuckled amusedly, dropping back against his pillow.

X x x

In her room she tore open the paper with great care, as if she might need it again, and turned the little box over in her hands curiously. Carefully, she took the cardboard lid off and looked inside. A bright smile broke out on her face. She picked up the chain, lifting it out of the box. A small gold pendant dangled at the bottom of the delicate chain, sparkling in the early morning sun that filtered through her dusty curtains.

She turned the necklace over in her hands, examining every part of it. There was a woman kneeling in front of a person with a child. Around the edge were the words 'Saint Catherine' and 'Pray for us'. It would not be until many years later that the child fully understood the meaning of this pendant, but she liked it all the same. She had never had a necklace before.

She looked at the catch with some confusion, but decided in the end to enlist help.

She crept downstairs, careful not to make any sound outside her father's room. She practically skipped into the kitchen, where her mother was already up. Laura had her back to the door, busy washing up. Sara walked quietly over to her, the necklace clutched tightly in her hand.

"Mom?" She asked timidly. Laura looked down and smiled briefly before turning her attention back to the dishes.

"Happy birthday sweetie." She greeted softly.

"Thank you." Sara smiled politely. "Can you put this on for me?" She held the necklace up. Laura reached out a hand absently and took the charm. She wiped her hands futilely on her dress and crouched down, brushing Sara's hair aside. Carefully, she clipped the necklace together behind her neck and went back to her chores. Sara grinned and placed the pendant in front of her clothes, swinging proudly halfway down her chest.

She heard loud footsteps above and swallowed instinctively. And sure enough minutes later Angelo Sidle shuffled into the kitchen and dropped unceremoniously into a seat.

"Morning daddy." Sara greeted softly. He grunted something in response, accepting the coffee his wife handed him without thanks. He took a long mouthful and his dark eyes flitted up, settling on his young daughter's chest. He paused.

"What's that?" He asked in a curt voice. She leant back in her seat, putting more distance between them.

"It's a present." She mumbled.

"Laura!" He snapped, getting the dark-haired woman's attention. She turned, a distracted look on her face. "What is that?" He repeated, slower this time. For the first time she actually looked at it and realised what she had just done. "Where did it come from?" His voice was getting lower.

"I don't know." Laura insisted, stepping closer to Sara.

"Where did you get it?" He turned to Sara, dark eyes ablaze.

"It was a birthday present." She answered meekly.

"Like hell! Where did you get it?" He repeated.

"From me." Jack's voice interrupted and they turned to the door where he stood, William hovering not far behind so as to avoid the ensuing fight. Angelo turned slowly, eyeing Jack up.

"Where the hell did you get something like that?" He demanded. "Did you steal it?"

"No." Jack insisted, hurt by the accusation.

"Then where's it from? You can't afford it."

"I saved up."

"Sure you did!" Angelo spat. His hand flew out that fast, grapping the chain and yanking it firmly from the little girl's neck. She yelped with surprise.

"Hey!" Jack yelled, lunging for his father. Angelo, in return, shoved him away with one hand, holding the pendant up with the other.

"Wherever you got it from, take it back. Or I'll get rid of it."

"No, it's her birthday present." Jack insisted.

"Get rid of it."

"What's the harm in letting her keep it?" Laura spoke up. "She doesn't know what it means." He whirled on her, one hand meeting the side of her face with a surprisingly loud sound.

"I never want to see that name anywhere in this house ever again!" He snapped, making it perfectly clear that he was not to be argued with again. And just to make his point clear he walked over to the trashcan, holding the twinkling gold necklace up high.

"No!" Sara threw herself at him, her tiny hands reaching up to her present. One hand swung out, knocking her sideways across the room. She hit the floor with a hurt squeak, tears stinging at her dark eyes.

"Hey!" For the first time, William moved, but Jack held him back before he could defend his sister. The older boy walked calmly across the room, scooped Sara into his arms and led both his siblings out of the kitchen, casting a final glance at his mother, nursing her bruised face in the corner.

X x x

For the next couple of hours the children could hear the sounds from downstairs. Jack thought that by taking them away from the scene he could protect their innocence but the walls were thin and they could hear every word and every scream.

The whole family was well aware of their father's temper, but it was the first time he had ever physically lashed out at the youngest member.

No-one really knew what had set him off. Not until they went into school the next day and heard about the famed musician's tragic car accident.

Perhaps it was this loss of his favourite singer that caused Angelo's rage that morning, or perhaps the fear that his eldest son was about to break the inherent rule of this house: no one mentions the truth of Sara's birth.

Either way, despite her best efforts to suppress all childhood memories, Sara never forgot that morning.

And despite combing every trashcan on the premises, she never did know what happened to her treasured Saint Catherine pendant.

**x x x x**

**RIP Marc Bolan. One chapter to go**


	40. Portrait of a family

**Thanks guys for all the reviews, hope you've enjoyed it. This story was an experiment and I'm glad I tried it, I hope you are too. **

**Now, enjoy and let me know what you thought x**

**x x x x**

**Epilogue**

Sara awoke from the dream, which was more of a memory than a dream, with a soft frown etched into her features. When she blinked her eyes open she found Catherine's warm blue ones staring back at her. Cath smiled, reaching out a hand to tuck a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear gently.

"Morning sweetheart." She whispered. Sara smiled.

"What time is it?" She asked, her voice thick with sleep. Cath shook her head, a coy smile playing on her lips.

"It doesn't matter. I get to take you home today."

X x x

Catherine slipped out of the kitchen, away from the playful chatter of her family over the breakfast table. She stopped by the front door, scooping up the mail and flicking through it absently. She was about to toss it on the table when a stiff white envelope mixed amongst the usual junk caught her attention. She abandoned the rest, turning it over in her hands carefully. There was a stamp across the bottom of the front, beneath Catherine's address, typed neatly on the cardboard. She read the name embossed in the stamp half a dozen times before it sank in.

Slowly, she sat down on the couch, her eyes glued to the crisp white envelope. The sound of laughter filtered through the closed kitchen door.

She should just throw it out and join them, she thought. After all, she didn't need it anymore. But something stopped her from doing that. She stood up, beginning to pace. She didn't know why she was so nervous about it, after all she already knew what it said, but a cautious part of her had taken over her rational side. What if she was wrong?

Absently she drifted over to the fireplace, where the gas fire was burning strong to warm up the house after the unexpected cold frost the night before. Her eyes automatically sought out the framed photo sitting in pride of place on the mantelpiece. It had been taken a couple of weeks ago at a family picnic. Sara had her arms wrapped around Lindsey and both were laughing. Catherine was leaning against Lily, smiling blissfully at her two daughters. Nancy was on the other side, hugging a struggling Jeremy, a cheeky smile on his mischievous little face.

She was so lost reliving the fond memories of that day that she never heard the kitchen door open.

"Hey, you lost?" Sara soft voice infiltrated her thoughts, startling her back to reality. She turned, an apologetic smile on her face.

"Sorry, just ... thinking?" She explained vaguely.

"You okay?" Sara pressed, a concerned frown creeping onto her face. Cath nodded, pursing her lips. Silently she gestured for them to sit down.

"This came today." She held out the envelope, dropping onto the couch next to Sara. The brunette took it, turning it over in her hands curiously.

"What is it?" She asked. Cath brushed her hair aside nervously, picking her words carefully.

"When I first suspected that you were my daughter, I wanted to get proof before I said anything. So I got a DNA sample." Sara sat very still, listening carefully. "I couldn't use our lab, not after Sam, so I looked online and found a hospital that runs DNA tests. I sent ours off." She swallowed, tapping the envelope gently. "These are the results." She went quiet, waiting for Sara to say something but the young woman didn't speak. Eventually, Cath had to fill in the deafening silence. "I just thought you should know. You can do whatever you want with them." She said softly. Sara stared at them for a long moment, gently rubbing her thumb over the untouched seal. Finally, she stood up, moving to the fire where she paused for just a second before releasing the envelope. She remained with her back to Catherine, watching the results burn and spark in the dancing flames. Slowly, Catherine stood up and walked over to her, wrapping her in a warm hug from behind. Sara leant back into the embrace, sighing softly.

"Why'd you do it Bel?" Cath asked quietly as the paper crisped and broke apart in the fire. Sara's answer was immediate and spoken with an honesty that nearly made Catherine cry.

"I don't need a piece of paper to tell me who my family is."

X x x

Their tender moment was broken by Lindsey's shout for them to join them. Sharing a secretive smile they made their way back to the kitchen, where Sara was dragged to the stove to assist in pancake making because "her's were better than mom's" in Lindsey's words. Sara lifted Lindsey onto the counter so she could mix and lifted Jeremy up, holding him around the middle so he could pour the mix into the sizzling pan.

Nancy and Lily sat side by side at the kitchen table, laughing at the children's flour streaked faces and Sara's mock threats to drop the little boy into the garbage disposal if he ever told anyone her secret recipe.

Catherine didn't join her family. She hung back, leaning against the kitchen doorframe with a contented smile on her face as she watched her dysfunctional, unordinary little family lark about. Sara caught a brief glimpse of her face and winked playfully.

Catherine sighed deeply.

It took thirty one years, nine months and three days, but her wish had finally come true.

~Fin~

**And they lived happily ever after ;)**


End file.
